Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 86833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
“What?” My hand hovers over the end of my toothbrush, shocked by his question. “What do you mean?” I squirt paste onto it anyway and then slip it under the cool tap water, bringing it to my mouth.
“Simple question, kitty.” He smiles sadly, turning toward me.
I pause my brushing when I see the sincerity in his eyes. They say women are confusing? Nuh uh. Men take the cake for this shit.
I drop my hand to the sink. “I mean, I’ve never had a sibling before, but I can honestly say that if I ever had one, I’d want him to be you.”
Nate smiles sorrowfully, the dimples in his cheeks sinking in slightly. “Thanks, sis.”
“Why do you ask this, though? Are you okay?”
He exhales slowly. “Me and Tillie, what are your thoughts?”
Well, I wasn’t expecting that. If I asked him what his thoughts were on Bishop and me, I have no idea what he would say.
“Um.” I spit out my toothpaste, rinse my toothbrush, and then put it back into its slot. “I mean, I don’t know. I just don’t want you to hurt her, Nate.”
“What if I can’t fucking help it?” He looks to me pleadingly. “What if I’m just one epic failure of giant proportions? What if I get so scared anytime I think I come close to me giving a fuck about a chick… I fuck it all up?”
“What have you done?” I ask blandly.
“I… I… fuck.” He pulls on his hair. “Why do I give a fuck about her, Madi?” he whisper-yells at me. “Why the fuck do I care? I’ve had little fuck buddies before, but I don’t tap more than once, and if I do, they’re with chicks who know the rules. And even if they do get attached? I have no problem breaking their itty bitty, little tender fucking hearts. I laugh at them, Madi!” He pauses, his chest rising and falling, his eyes furious and his jaw tense. He pulls at his hair frantically again.
I reach up and grab it, bringing his hand down. “What. Have. You. Done?” I murmur again, searching his eyes for any clues.
His shoulders go slack. He reaches out to his door handle, twists it, and shoves it open. “I fucked up.”
I let out a long, annoyed breath, my eyes staying on the naked body of some slut that’s spread-eagle on Nate’s satin red sheets. Without turning to face him, I launch my elbow back and clock him square in the jaw.
“Ouch!” He steps back, rubbing his jaw and quickly shutting the door.
“No!” I scream, a little crazily if I think deeply about it. “Why the fuck do you care if that slut hears?”
“Madi!” Nate shakes me, his hands wrapping around my upper arms. “Shh!”
“Fuck you!” I hiss, reaching for the door again, ready to pull the bitch’s hair straight out. I’m acting a little on the insane side, but he had one thing to do—not break my best friend’s heart—and he did it. This would undoubtedly shatter her. They may not be exclusive, but sometimes you don’t need to say the words “we’re together.” Sometimes, you know deep down what the fuck you’re doing is wrong, and by the way Nate is acting and how he came in here, asking stupid fucking questions… that tells me he felt like shit while he was doing it. Hence, cheating. He cheated on her. He knew what he was doing was wrong, label or no label, so fuck him.
“Madi, we weren’t together, but I can’t do this with her!”
“Do what?” I yell again, my hands going in the air like a crazy person.
“I can’t do commitment! I’ve never been able to!”
“Why?”
“Shit!” He pulls at his hair again, his muscles tensing with the action. “I can’t do this with you right now.”
“Well…,” I murmur. “You have until I wake up in the morning to tell Tillie, or I will, and I’m not playing around. Nate, I may care about you like I do a brother, but blood or no blood, I would still act the same. Tillie is my best fucking friend, and she likes you—only God knows why—so fix this shit.”
Then I turn toward my door and storm back into my room, a little on edge and a lot annoyed. Flopping down onto my bed, I stretch wide and count the squares on my ceiling. I can’t fucking believe it. We’ve been home for approximately three hours, and he has managed to sink himself into someone else. What the hell is his problem? Are all men like this? Should I be checking on Bishop?
With that thought, my stomach churns with unspoken emotions. Nope, not going there. Bending over my bed, I pull out the leather book and sit back against my headboard, flipping open the page and looking over the double infinity sign again.