Total pages in book: 210
Estimated words: 203847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1019(@200wpm)___ 815(@250wpm)___ 679(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 203847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1019(@200wpm)___ 815(@250wpm)___ 679(@300wpm)
“That, one day, you and I will be able to be honest with ourselves…and each other.”
Without another word, he spins again and carries on walking.
“Are you telling me in an ass-fucked way that you love me?” I whisper entirely to myself, watching him as he goes.
His words are heavy. Lead weights, they settle low in my stomach, making me want to be sick.
No.
He can’t love me.
I open the front door and stare at the tabby cat that strolls past my feet like he’s only been gone for an hour.
“Well, hello, you dirty little tramp. Where have you been?”
Angus looks at me for a moment before deciding that his empty food bowl is far more worthy of his attention. He meanders to it and sits right in front of it, looking at it forlornly. When I don’t immediately fill it, he turns big, brown eyes on me and stares at me.
“What? You think you can disappear on me for a few days then come back in here one morning demanding food like you own the place?”
He blinks.
“You are such a male. I knew I should have gotten a female kitty.” I huff, stomp across the kitchen, and grab a can of food. I dump it carelessly in the bowl and leave the empty can on the counter.
My phone rings loudly from the sofa and I leap across the apartment to grab it. “Hello?”
“Liv?” My agent’s voice comes through the line.
“Hi.”
“Hi. I have great news! You got the Balfour campaign! You have to be in Mexico in two weeks!”
Holyshititwasn’tajoke.
“Holy shit!” I clap my hand over my mouth. “Sorry. Shit. Oh, shit!”
Sheila laughs. “I’m getting final details now. I will call you when I have them. Then you can come down to the office to look at everything. Okay, I have to go. It’s crazy here. Just wanted to let you know. Bye, honey!”
The line goes dead and I stare at my phone.
I have no idea what I’m supposed to do now. So I do what I’m not supposed to do and grab my car keys.
As I run down the stairs and jump into my car, I question my decision to go to Tyler before my best friend. Not that it makes the slightest bit of difference because I’m already driving to his apartment. My body is controlling in place of my mind.
I park outside his apartment block and take the elevator up. My heart is pounding, but I can’t decipher between the thump of excitement and the thump from Tyler.
I think they are one and the same.
I knock on his door three times, but when it opens, it isn’t him.
“Oh, Liv! Hi!” Tessa chirps. “If you’re looking for Ty, he’s on an early shoot. Said he’ll be back around ten. I’m going to get breakfast since he’s left me absolutely nothing. Did you want to come?”
Wow. Word vomit indeed.
“Oh, it’s okay. I’ll just wait here. I already ate,” I add as an explanation.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Thanks for the offer though.” I smile, which she returns as she bounces past me.
I walk into his apartment and close the door behind me.
I’ve never actually been here alone, I quickly realize. He’s always been with me. And right now, with his words about hope and honesty whispering in the back of my mind, my feet guide me toward his room.
It’s not snooping if you know it’s there.
Right?
I move to the dresser he pulled my clothes from yesterday and open the drawers. There are a couple of sets of underwear in the top drawer. Nice underwear, I notice. Expensive underwear. More-than-my-monthly-paycheck kind of underwear.
I chew the inside of my lip. So much for not spending his money. Opening the second drawer, I see a couple of pairs of jeans. The tags are still on these, too, and he sure as hell didn’t buy these from Forever 21.
My eyes flick to one of the prices. Hell. Definitely not a Forever 21 item.
I’m almost afraid to look at the next drawer, but curiosity gets the better of me and I pull it open. A few shirts, sweaters, all tagged and priced still.
I do note that there are no pajamas. Of course there wouldn’t be.
I close the drawer, feeling a little sick from the cost of those items. I’m still wondering what he’s hoping for, really. That, one day, I’ll turn up naked and need the clothes to go home?
I laugh to myself. How ridiculous.
But I wonder…
I pull open the closet door and look inside. On one side, there are sweaters and shirts hanging. There are smart dinner jackets, perfectly pressed, and smart pants without a crease in sight. I raise my eyebrows. Tyler Stone, I am impressed.
Shoes are neatly lined up on the shelf that runs above the clothes rail. Sneakers, dress shoes, sandals, flip-flops. Everything. And not all as cheap as he said before, I think, noticing some Armani jeans.