Series: Torn and Bound Duet Series by K. Webster
Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
I expect him to make a comment about them being too short, but he only looks up and says, “Both look fine.”
His comment is my breaking point. I drop the dresses and round the bed, stopping in front of him. “Hey.” I snatch his phone from him. I want to ask him if everything’s okay between us, but I’m scared of what his answer will be. So instead I say, “You know you can talk to me, right?”
“Yeah, I know.” His eyes dart all over the room, looking everywhere but at me. I don’t know what to say, how to fix this, and it’s breaking my heart. I hate that I’m leaving while we’re like this, but I don’t have a choice.
“Okay.” I sigh in defeat. “I better get going.” I stand and zip up my luggage, then drop it onto the ground. I roll it to my front door and Ashton follows. When we get outside, I lock my door then turn to my best friend. “I’ll see you when I get back.”
“Yeah.” He plasters the fakest smile on his face, and I have to force back the tears. I can literally feel myself losing my best friend. I want to jump into his arms and beg him to talk to me, to not shut me out, but I have a plane to catch, and I’m not sure I want to know how he would respond.
“I’ll miss you,” I tell him.
“Me too,” he says back, already walking down the hall. When he gets to his front door, he turns quickly and says, “Safe travels, MiMi,” then disappears into his apartment, leaving me standing there speechless. A single tear escapes down my cheek, and I swipe it away, refusing to cry right now. I need to be strong for my trip or my mom will eat me alive.
“Mia Lynn,” Mom says for the millionth time tonight, making me roll my eyes. “Have you tried applying serum to under your eyes? Those dark circles add several years to your age and not in a good way.”
“I’ll definitely check it out,” I say stiffly, reminding myself that in less than three days I’ll be on a plane heading back to Michigan. I just need to get through this first.
This isn’t the first comment she’s made since I arrived a few hours earlier, and it won’t be the last. It’s what she does, her way of making it clear I’m not enough. Flawed. Imperfect.
“Have you put on weight? Because your hips look wider. I’ve heard about the freshman fifteen but never experienced it.”
“Are you taking care of your hair? It looks dry.”
“Maybe you should wear close-toed shoes to dinner. Your pedicure doesn’t look fresh.”
“When’s the last time you got a decent manicure? I guess it’s to be expected in a town like that one.”
“Oh, is that the dress you’re wearing to the dinner party?”
My phone vibrates in my hand, and I glance at it. It’s Brayden. Funny how just his name on my screen has my heart fluttering in my chest.
“It’s rude to walk around with a phone while we have guests over,” Mom says, glaring at me.
“I’m sorry. I’ve been waiting to hear from a guy I’ve been tutoring. He took his quiz and is waiting for the professor to post the grades.”
“Maybe you should focus on your own studies,” she says. “I saw your grades the other day. A B in creative writing. How do you expect to ever be taken seriously in the writing world with grades like that?”
I open my mouth to argue that it’s a senior level class and there’s only one grade so far, but stop myself. I made straight As all through school and she never once complimented me. Of course the one time she comments is when I have one B, which is only two points away from an A.
“I’ll bring it up,” I tell her as my phone vibrates again. “I better answer this.” Before she can argue, I slip away, quickly running up the stairs to my room. I close the door behind me, taking a deep breath. Now that I’m far enough away from her I feel like I can breathe a little easier.
I click on Brayden’s name to return his call, as I kick off my heels and start stripping out of my dress. I’ve been mingling for hours down there and have fulfilled my obligation for the evening. I have no intention of returning.
“Hey,” he says, his masculine voice husky and sexy. “Guess who got a B on his quiz?”
“What? Really?”
“Yep! And I’m thinking I deserve something extra special for it.”
“Oh, really?” I laugh, already feeling lighter. “And what do you think it is you deserve?”
“Well, if getting a right answer equals a kiss, I imagine getting a B on my quiz is worth way more... At least some tongue action.”