Total pages in book: 204
Estimated words: 193115 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 966(@200wpm)___ 772(@250wpm)___ 644(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 193115 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 966(@200wpm)___ 772(@250wpm)___ 644(@300wpm)
Sam turns, two mugs in his hands, his head slightly cocked. “Do you actually care?” His eyes follow me as I make another circuit of the island.
“Of course I care.”
He huffs, slipping the tea onto the counter. “You’re going to give yourself a heart attack at this rate, mate. Or, alternatively, royally fuck it up.”
I halt pacing, chewing my lip incessantly. “Fuck it up how?” I need to stop asking dumb questions.
“I can see you’re a heartbeat away from hunting her down.”
“Would that be a bad thing?” Maybe she’ll be pleased to see me? Maybe she’ll make me finish off what I started in her bedroom.
Or maybe she’ll punch me in my stupid face and swear like a trooper.
“Sit,” Sam orders, pulling up a stool beside me, getting close, like he senses I’m a flight risk and needs to be nearby to tackle me to the floor when I try to escape. I drop to the stool on a sigh. Then get back up when the most brilliant idea comes to me. I start pacing again, pulling up my contacts. “What are you doing?” Sam asks tiredly.
“Making a call.” I dial, putting the phone at my ear.
“I strongly advise against it. Don’t suffocate her.”
I dazzle him with a mammoth smile. “I’m not calling Ava.” The call connects as Sam frowns. “Jay,” I say, and realization catches Sam. His head goes straight into his hands in despair. I ignore him. This might be the only thing that gets me through the night.
“Ward? What can I do for you?” Jay asks.
“You working tonight?”
“I’m always working.”
“Good. Have you seen two women? One dark-haired, beautiful, willowy. The other is a fiery redhead with a ton of attitude. Mid-twenties.”
“Hey,” Sam pipes up, his face appearing from its hiding place. “I love that attitude.”
My eyebrows shoot up, and Sam frowns. Thought so. I’m not the only one who’s spellbound around here but, and I don’t mind admitting it, Sam’s handling the stab of Cupid’s bow a lot better than I am.
“Yeah, I know them,” Jay says. “They arrived not long ago. Giggly little things, aren’t they?”
She’s having fun without me. Well, that sucks. “Keep an eye on them, yeah? Text me the consumption levels, and if any blokes sniff around, I want to know.” I’m still mindful that Ava’s ex is on the prowl trying to make amends.
Jay laughs deeply. “You’re a fuck-up, Ward.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.” I hang up, smiling down at the screen. “My work here is done,” I murmur, slipping my mobile onto the counter and taking a seat. I reach for my tea and take a sip, happy with myself. I can feel Sam staring at me, and I look up over the rim of my mug. “What?”
He shakes his head. “Unbelievable.”
“Or just creative?”
“No, just neurotic. And what’s with this big age secret?”
My tea pauses on its way down to the counter. “What do you know about the big age secret?”
“That it’s no fucking secret,” he says over a laugh. “Only to Ava.”
“Wait, did you tell Kate how old I am?”
“No. Although she’s asked plenty.” He rolls his shoulders, like trying to rid a weight there. “Truth be told, I dare not even talk about you to Kate. I don’t know what I can say or can’t say, what Ava knows or doesn’t know.” He hits me with an accusing look, and I shy away from it. “This is getting a bit stupid.”
His flippant comment riles me, and I stand, swinging away and stalking to the fridge to grab some comfort. It’s that or swing at one of my closest friends. “It’s not stupid, Sam. I have a list as long as my fucking arm of shit to share and I’m fucking terrified that sharing any one of those things will result in a swift return to nothingness.” I yank the fridge open and snatch down my peanut butter, diving in without delay. He’s quiet behind me as I work my way through half the jar, getting more worked up by the second. “There’s only ever light when she’s around. There’s only ever hope when I’m with her.”
“You can’t glue her to you.”
I laugh. Should I tell him that I’ve thought about it?
I’m still pondering that when my phone pings, and I quickly forsake my vice and rush across to the island to grab it. Opening Jay’s message, I read, and every word I absorb seems to raise my temperature by a few more degrees.
“What?” Sam asks.
“She’s on her second glass of wine.” Second? She’s not been there more than a half hour.
“Oh my God,” Sam breathes, but not in despair for the level of alcohol being sunk in such a short space of time. No. His despair is directed solely at my reaction to the level of alcohol being sunk in such a short space of time.