Total pages in book: 34
Estimated words: 32105 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 161(@200wpm)___ 128(@250wpm)___ 107(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32105 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 161(@200wpm)___ 128(@250wpm)___ 107(@300wpm)
Ah. To think it all began with a simple crush. I was so pitifully naïve back then. A docile lamb in wolves clothing, that sought comfort from a bloodthirsty beast. After everything he put me through, you’d think he would be nothing but a ghost for me to weep and curse at. That couldn’t be further from the case. He’d meant everything to me. He still did and always would.
It was his demons that didn’t play well with mine. Now I was left here without him, and I wasn’t sure how to deal with it. I’d mourn him till my dying day until I found him again in the deepest depths of hell.
"Sorry for the wait, Hun,” Barbie chirped, finally sliding her ass back up to my table. “What can I get you started with?"
I stared at her for a good minute without saying a word. Her long hair was styled in two blonde pigtails to go with her short denim and plaid shirt that she’d tied at the waist to show off her midriff.
She’d finished off the look with faded brown cowgirl boots. Her large, round eyes peered down at me, a wide smile on her pretty face. Compared to her I was greatly overdressed.
"Uh, rum and Coke, please." That seemed the safest bet.
"Be right back," Aimee--a quick glance at her name tag confirmed--replied before once again waltzing away.
Resting my chin on my hand, I eyed the menu and contemplated how badly I wanted to throw up tonight. With the way, I was feeling that’s exactly what I’d be doing if I ate any kind of greasy food. Aimee sat my drink in front of me a few minutes later and asked if I wanted anything else, I waved her off without looking up.
As I took a few cautious sips, a prickling sensation started to needle the back of my neck. Someone was watching me.
I looked away from my drink and slowly scanned the room. My gaze landed on a booth in the back corner that had two men and two women sitting. They were all laughing and seemingly enjoying themselves.
My eyes locked with the man’s sitting on the end. He was smiling at whatever was being said. Due to the lighting inside the dingy bar, I couldn't see him clearly. He was wearing a gray button-down dress shirt, slacks, and coordinating shoes. Given that he was with a group of people dressed similarly to him, I figured they worked together.
I toyed with the notion of approaching the booth, ultimately deciding against it. He was the opposite of what I was used to and one of those women could be his wife or girlfriend. None of the other men or women inside were remotely appealing to me. I wasn’t desperate enough to fuck anything that moved.
I had a detachable showerhead and a rose at home that could get me off just as well, sometimes better.
Since I was already here, I decided to take my time and finish my drink. I didn’t have any reason to rush back to the house. Molina was gone for three days. There’d be nothing but the annoying hole in the ceiling and depressing emptiness filled with a ghost I couldn’t face.
I wasn’t bothered by the fact I was sitting here alone instead. The stranger in the corner was keeping me preoccupied enough. Every time I looked in that direction, his eyes were on me. He wasn't being discreet about it either. Tucking my chin, I smiled to myself, rotating the tiny straw in my glass.
It was after my third and final drink that I decided to use the toilet before leaving and making the drive home.
The bathroom was tiny and as clean as could be expected for such an establishment. After carefully squatting over a cracked toilet, I wedged my clutch beneath my arm and sanitized my hands.
Refusing to touch the door handle, I tore off a gritty piece of paper towel and used it as a glove. I balled it up and headed into the hall with my head down, reading the text that just came through from Darionne. I didn't see the person coming from the opposite direction. I walked right into them. My cell flipped from my hand and hit the dingy linoleum with a clatter.
"Fuck,” I swore loudly, praying the screen survived the fall.
The man bent down to retrieve it before I could. "That's a colorful word," he admonished with a quirked brow and sexy drawl.
"And absolutely necessary, given the circumstances, don’t you think?"
“Oh, now that depends.”
Holding my palm out for the phone he had yet to try and return, I gave him a small smile.
I kept my eyes locked with his, fighting the urge to inspect his entire body from top to bottom. The fragrance of his spicy cologne diffused between us. His face was a sculptor’s dream. He had cheekbones to die for, a prominent jawline, flawless skin, and beautiful brown hazel eyes. His sexily messed brown hair was the icing on top. Me openly staring at him had a cocksure smirk tugging one side of his full lips up.