Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 72760 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72760 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Dr. Dick may have won this round, but come tomorrow, I’ll be back with a vengeance, and there’s no way he’ll be able to bench me. I’m here for the long haul.
CHAPTER 4
AUTUMN
My feet ache as I push through the door of my shitty one-bedroom apartment. I’ve never been so exhausted in my life. After hours of studying, the protocols and policies were practically frying my brain. I was finally pulled away for some actual action when a woman with triplets came in. I wasn’t allowed to do anything but observe and take notes, but it was still huge.
It started as a natural birth, but after the second baby got stuck, it quickly turned into an emergency cesarean. Dr. Mayson handled it admirably, momentarily making me forget that he was a dick. It was simply amazing, and honestly, a little scary for a hot minute. But I can’t deny that watching Dr. Mayson in action like that was the most attractive thing I’ve ever seen.
I close the door behind me, and the first thing I hear is the sound of Brandon taking over my living room. I roll my eyes. We’ve already talked about him being here when I’m not. I’m not comfortable with it. We’ve only been together for three months, and so far, it’s turning into a bit of a punishment. I don’t think it’s going to go much further.
I was really hoping for a little peace and quiet tonight. I’ve already texted KC to let her know that I’m not coming around. I’m far too exhausted to think about entertaining him, especially when it’s going to end with him climbing in my bed. I just don't have the energy to fake it.
No, thanks. Not tonight.
“Hey,” I call over the sound of the bullshit coming from the television as I walk deeper into my apartment. “What are you doing here? I thought we talked about this.”
Brandon nods in my general direction but doesn’t take his eyes off the screen, and I realize that he’s playing some kind of video game. I stare for a moment, my lip pulling up in confusion. Where the hell did that come from? I’m pretty certain that it wasn’t there when I left this morning.
“Umm … hello? Brandon,” I say, raising my voice, more than a little pissed off that I was ignored the first time. “What do you think you’re doing here? I asked you not to come over when I wasn’t here. How’d you get in anyway?”
“Key,” he grunts, still not taking his eyes off the screen. “It’s fine. Chill out, babe. I haven’t touched any of your shit.”
A key? What the hell? Are you kidding me? Who the hell does this guy think he is? How can he not see how badly that violates my privacy?
I let out a huff and walk through to my kitchen, needing to dump my shit on the counter and take my shoes off before I deal with his dumbass. Only, there’s nowhere to dump my bag because there is shit everywhere. Nearly all of the contents from my fridge are scattered across my counter, there are plates and cups piled high in the sink, and the water has been left running for who the hell knows how long.
I dart across the kitchen and quickly turn it off before noticing a stack of boxes thrown in the general direction of my trash can. I clench my jaw. I pride myself on not being one of those crazy bitch girlfriends, but I’ve had enough. I won’t allow some guy to waltz into my home and take advantage of me.
I go to walk out of the kitchen when the boxes steal my attention again, and I look a little closer.
PS5.
My stomach clenches. That better not be a PlayStation 5 box, especially because just last week, the fucker said that he didn’t have the cash to take me out for dinner. I was made to go to the store after a long day, slave over the stove for two hours to cook him a nice meal, only for him to say that he didn’t like it. That rat bastard.
I’m not going to pretend to know anything about Playstations, but I’ve heard enough to know that this is the latest version, and they weren’t going cheap.
I grab the box and storm into my living room. “What the hell is this?” I demand, putting myself right in front of my TV and being obnoxious about getting his attention, but fuck it, he doesn’t deserve for this to be easy.
Brandon lets out a huff and leans to the side before finally hitting pause on his bullshit game. “What the fuck is your problem tonight? You’re acting like a bitch. Chill out and have a good time. Why don’t you crack open a bottle of wine or something?”