Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 120326 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 602(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120326 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 602(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
Despite all of the times I imagined seeing Robert again, and how I thought I would be confident and breezy in the face of his arrogant stare, I find myself reverting back into my tortoise shell. My cheeks blaze red as I let my eyes drop to the floor, just as his deep brown gaze locks in on me. There's a calculating look in his eyes, like he's figuring out some new and creative form of torture. Only now that he's an adult, his abuse will probably be ten times more elaborate.
“Well, look who it is,” he declares. “Tampon all grown up.” He grins and dusts some breadcrumbs from his hands, eyes travelling over my body in a strange way. His brow furrows a little then as he takes his time lingering over my face.
“Tampon” is one of the cruder names he thought up for me over the years. “Ginger minge” and “Fanta pants” were close seconds.
“Call her that one more time and you’re dead. I told you Lana was coming today,” Sasha informs him coolly. “You're not supposed to be here.”
I glance up just as Robert drags his gaze away from me to look at his sister. He grins with teeth. “Yeah, about that — you know how Kara moved into the penthouse a few days ago?” he asks.
Sasha nods impatiently and gestures for him to continue.
“Well, we had a fight, decided to break up, and now she's locked me out of the apartment. This was the closest place I could think to go.”
Kara is Robert's long-term, on again/off again girlfriend. I take it they were having one of their “off” periods while Robert was with the married woman. Although you never know with him. Sasha's told me all about Kara and how she and Robert have this intense, drama-fuelled relationship. They're always getting into fights and cheating on one another, then enjoying passionate reunions. I don't get why people can't just fall in love and be happy with one another these days.
“What the fuck, Rob? It's your apartment, not hers. If the two of you had a fight, then it should be you kicking her out.” She pauses to run a hand through her short hair, making the ends go all spiky. “I don't need to be dealing with this right now.”
Robert puts on what I have come to think of over the years as his “puppy dog face,” which always seems to win Sasha over.
“I would have kicked her out, but she was acting like a hysterical nut, throwing shit all over the place. I decided it was better to leave before she tried boiling my bunny. Oh, please, Sash, just let me stay here for a few nights.” He puts his palms together in a begging gesture.
Sasha smirks at the “bunny boiler” comment. “What about the place in Finsbury Park — can't you go and stay there?”
“Nope. Dad's got the builders in. They're installing new pipes or something.” Robert crosses his arms over his chest, a very faint smug gleam in his eye. You wouldn't recognise it if you weren't used to studying him, like I am. He knows she's about two seconds away from giving in.
Sasha looks to me with an apologetic expression. I shrug. Perhaps living in the same house as Robert for a couple of days will finally enable me to move past the hold he seems to have on me. It's like I have this urge to triumph over that hold. Show him that he means nothing to me and can't make me feel like crap with a simple condescending look any longer.
Sasha walks over and places both of her hands on my shoulders. She ducks down so she's at my eye level. Her voice is sincere when she asks, “Do you mind if he stays, kid? Just say the word, and I'll kick him out on his arse.”
I try to come across as nonchalant, like the idea of sharing the same space as Robert is a mere blip on my radar, when really it’s a gigantic flashing red light blurring my vision. “No, I don't mind. This is your house, Sash.”
Her brown eyes take me in. They are the exact same brown eyes as Robert's, even though they aren't identical twins, yet somehow hers don't make me feel quite so insignificant.
Sasha lets out a long breath, still deciding. She seems to come to a resolution. “Okay, then.” She turns back to Robert. “You can sleep in the back bedroom. And if you make a mess, you'd better clean it up.”
Robert smiles deviously. “Thanks, sis. You know I love ya.”
I resist the urge to snicker sarcastically. Robert wouldn't know love if it hit him square between the eyeballs. A second later, as Sasha goes to put on the coffee machine, Robert looks at me with an odd mixture of challenge and confusion in his eyes. Perhaps my acceptance of him staying here has taken him by surprise. I repeat a mantra in my head. You're a strong twenty-two-year-old woman, Lana Sweeney. You can do this. Robert Phillips is nothing. He has no worth.
There's a small, awkward silence as Sasha digs some cups out of the cupboard. Robert continues eating his sandwich, and I sit down on a stool on the other side of the marble countertop. He has this way of making the room feel smaller, his presence alone sucking up all the space. His eyes flicker up to mine, and I force myself to hold his gaze. I will not allow him to cow me.
“What happened — did you walk into a wall or something?” I ask, feigning concern and resting my sweaty palms on top of my thighs. I need to show a strong, confident front if I'm ever going to survive these few days living with him. With my sanity still intact, that is.
His expression turns hard. “No, actually, my girlfriend's been beating on me. I had to call a helpline.” His sarcasm knows no bounds.
“Hmm, normally I'd be shocked, but somehow I can believe you'd drive even a saint to violence.”