Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 68177 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68177 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
I open my mouth to tell him that the box wouldn’t be falling apart if he had put it in a new box when he said he would mail it to me, but a shadow falls over the table and I glance up, blinking to make sure I’m not seeing things.
“Jamie?” I stand automatically to give my brother a hug, asking quietly, “What are you doing here?”
“I’ll explain later.” He kisses my forehead then glowers at Troy while moving a chair from another table, placing it with the back to the table between Troy and me before straddling it.
“How have you been, Jamie?” Troy asks with a hint of nervousness in his tone as he eyes my brother, who I have to admit looks intimidating. Not just because he’s much larger than Troy. His leather jacket, shredded jeans, and heavy-looking black boots would make any normal person cower if faced with him.
“Been good, Troy. How have you been?”
“All right.” He looks between Jamie and me. “I didn’t think you’d be here.”
“Funny, I didn’t think you’d be here either.” Jamie glances at me with a look that says I’m in trouble. “Last I heard, you were going to mail my sister her shit.”
“I was going to,” he agrees then clears his throat. “I just know how important the box is to her and wanted to make sure she got it.”
“It’s really nice of you to look after her like that, especially since you didn’t seem to give a fuck how she would feel when you slept with someone else after your ring was on her finger.”
“Jamie,” I hiss.
He turns to glare at me. “Where’s your box?”
“Jamie,” I repeat, softer this time, knowing his temper and how quickly this could escalate.
He turns to look at my ex once more. “Where is her box, Troy?”
“It’s in my car.”
“Why don’t you do me a favor and go get it,” he suggests, and Troy stands without another word and heads across the room to the door.
After I see him exit, I look at my brother, finding him watching me. “Was that necessary?”
“You said you would tell me if he asked to meet up with you, Dakota. What the fuck?”
“Who told you I would be here?” I ask, and his eyes narrow.
“That’s a whole other conversation we need to have. Why the fuck haven’t you told me about the guy you’re seeing?”
“Oh my God, I’m seriously going to kill him.” I squeeze my eyes closed and rub my forehead. “I can’t believe he called my brother, especially after our conversation last night. What the hell is wrong with him?”
“He’s obviously worried about you,” Jamie says, and my eyes open just enough to glare at him.
“Do not even think about taking his side on this, Jamie. You don’t know him. You don’t know the things he’s done.”
“Unlike you, Dakota, he talked to me, so yeah I do know.”
“He told you he stole my digital information?”
“If that’s your e-mail and shit, then yeah, he told me,” he replies, not seeming concerned at all by the fact that Braxton has basically come into my life and stomped all over it. Then again, he doesn’t know anything but what Braxton has told him. “I like him,” he mutters, and I blink in disbelief.
“You like him?”
“Yeah. I like him.”
“You don’t know him!” I screech then take a few deep breaths, hoping to calm myself down before I cause a scene. I thought I might have finally gotten through to Braxton. I thought maybe, just maybe, me hanging up on him and not calling him back or returning his texts or e-mails this morning might have worked to make him realize he can’t just take over anytime he wants to get his way. I guess I was wrong, and I also now know he has no limits. He will do whatever is necessary to get his way, including getting my brother on his side. My brother who has never liked any man I’ve ever dated.
“We’ll talk after you get your shit,” Jamie says, placing his hands over mine on the table, and I focus on him then jump slightly when my box is dropped before me, causing the table to shake.
I look from the box to Troy and can tell he wants to say something, but because of Jamie, he’s unsure how to proceed. He runs a hand through his hair with his eyes locked on mine, and the look he gives me is filled with regret and sadness—two emotions that shouldn’t make me feel sorry for him but still do.
“Thank you,” I say softly.
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs just as softly, and those old feelings I used to have for him come to the surface. I don’t want him; I don’t even like him anymore, but a part of me still cares about him and is disappointed he wasn’t who I thought he was.