Total pages in book: 184
Estimated words: 176002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 880(@200wpm)___ 704(@250wpm)___ 587(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 176002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 880(@200wpm)___ 704(@250wpm)___ 587(@300wpm)
I see the flash of fear in his eyes. I’ve got him by the balls right back.
I guess Carly has brought him more contacts than he was willing to give credit for. He needs her, at least for now.
“Let’s get out of here,” I say. “This situation looks weird enough, without people thinking we’re taking a shit together.”
“We haven’t resolved anything.”
“There is nothing to resolve. You’re a cunt and I’m a whore. End of. Now, back to dinner. We keep our mouths shut and eat our carrots. Job fucking done.”
I only hope I’m conveying more confidence than I’m feeling.
“Ella,” he tries again, still holding the door, but I tug at his wrist, trying to get the fuck out of there.
“Let me out!” I snap, and the door swings open wide.
But it isn’t Connor in charge of the door handle, it’s Josh, and he pulls me to him, wrapping an arm around my waist as he looks my ex up and down.
“It’s ok,” I say to Josh. “We were just leaving.”
“No, we weren’t,” Connor says. “We’ve got things to talk about, Ells.”
Josh looks at Connor like he’s nothing but shit. Apt observation.
“I think you should get back to your girlfriend at the table, don’t you? I’ll stay here with mine.”
Josh’s tone is so strong. Confident. Powerful.
All the things I love about him.
“Go on,” he says. “My sister is waiting for you. Get out of here.”
Connor holds his jaw high as he pushes his way past us, a glint of hatred in his eyes. One I haven’t seen from him before. He’s cocky, but never menacing, but with Josh…
The two of them are as cold as ice, glaring at each other.
“Ella’s not your fucking girlfriend,” Connor says. “She’s your whore.”
With that Mr Twin Flames adjusts his collar and puts on his swagger, and heads on back to the dinner table.
Josh’s mood changes in an instant. He closes the bathroom door and shuts us back in, safe from prying eyes. He brushes a thumb across my cheek and looks me right in the eyes, his gaze full of concern.
“What happened in here? Are you ok?”
I stare back at the true love of my life, and it’s such a contrast from looking at Connor that I take a deep breath, calling on the angels for some perspective. But they’ve already given it.
Connor is a major prick. That’s all there is to it.
“We can go,” Josh says. “We can get in the car and drive off right now, just say the word. I’d have been here sooner, but Mum was grilling me in the kitchen, and I was trying to give you a few seconds, if you needed them. But now I know you don’t, it’s fine.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his car keys. “I came prepared. We can go.”
It’s a lovely offer, to disappear in the middle of the carnage, but I summon up every single ounce of confidence I have in my soul.
“No, I don’t want to leave, thank you,” I tell my boyfriend. “I want to meet your family and enjoy Sunday lunch with them, just like we planned. Connor can go to hell.”
“You sure?” Josh asks. “Absolutely? One hundred percent?”
I open the bathroom door, then take his hand.
“I’ve never been more sure in my life.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
I have to draw on every scrap of my experience as an entertainer to get me through the rest of Sunday dinner. I’m used to walking into situations with strangers and shutting out the noise of real life – and I do the same now. I have to. I have no choice unless I want to blow the family meal to smithereens. Airing my dirty laundry in public is one thing, but displaying my chewed-up heart in front of my ex’s new girlfriend is another.
I focus on Josh, and his family, and the amazing Sunday lunch his mum has cooked, and shove the rest of it into the background. I’m here as Josh’s new girlfriend, excited and engaged with the people who love him, and I remind myself of it every second – regardless of the fact my stomach is still churning, desperate to hurl, and the very sight of Connor makes me want to scream in his face across the table.
His family are keen listeners, and I nearly throw up again as Connor talks about his past, and all his efforts in the music industry. His songs, and his gigs, and his early life when he used to play his guitar in the woods. He even mentions how much Heather and Phil’s farmhouse takes him back there. The feel of the countryside in the air.
Wanker.
He’s a total and utter wanker.
I do a pretty good job of ignoring him to be fair – aided by Josh’s hand squeezing my knee between mouthfuls of dinner – and as for Carly, I try to blank out every single thought aimed in her direction. My head just isn’t ready to fathom the situation yet. To fathom her yet. But her head is trying to fathom me, I can see it. The cogs are turning, but she can’t share even a fraction of Josh’s intelligence, or she’d be able to read it a mile off. It’s hardly a cryptic mystery.