Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 58808 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 294(@200wpm)___ 235(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58808 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 294(@200wpm)___ 235(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
“I have a surprise for you,” her father says.
My nostrils flare at his words.
It would be wrong to kill him, right?
“I bought you a holiday house.”
Of course he did.
Chapter 23
Propose?
Avani
“Where is your car?”
I jump at that voice.
Spinning around, I find Grayson leaning against his car. I haven’t seen him in a week. And to say I haven’t been keeping an eye out to see if he showed up again would be an understatement.
Tonight though, I’ve had it.
Yesterday, my shitbox of a car decided to crap out because it’s an ass like that. And I’ve had to catch the bus and walk to work which is incredibly painful.
“I’m catching the bus.” I nod to the bus station where I’m standing.
“You? Catch a bus…interesting.”
“Not really that interesting,” I reply. Sitting on the bus terminal seat, I hear his footsteps come over and take the seat next to me.
“It’s late. Weird and dangerous people come out to play when it’s late.”
“I’m not scared of the bogeyman,” I tell him, and he tries to suppress his smirk at the use of his nickname.
“No, I guess you are not.”
“Why are you here?” Looking at his hand, I ask, “Did you propose?”
“No, I did not. I didn’t lie when I said I have no intentions of marrying her.”
“So why are you with her?” Just as I voice the question, I hear the bus approaching, so I stand, and he does as well. “Goodnight, Grayson,” I say, noting that he doesn’t answer my question.
I step onto the bus, pay, and take a seat. When I look out the window to catch one last glimpse of him, he is no longer there. As I’m staring out the glass, someone sits in the seat next to me, and I immediately know who it is.
“Why are you on the bus?” When he says nothing, I add, “Your car is right there,” and point outside.
“I know,” he answers.
“So why are you on the bus?” I repeat as the bus pulls away.
“Because you’re on the bus.” His words shock me. I don’t know if I should move away or say something.
“I’m capable of catching the bus by myself. I have been for a week.”
“A week?” he asks, confusion wrinkling his brow.
“Yes, a week,” I answer, not sure where this conversation is going.
“I’ll drive you from now on. Tell me your hours.”
“Absolutely not. I don’t need a man to protect me. I am doing just fine by myself.” Raising a brow at him, I give him my best fuck you smirk.
“Oh, how I’ve missed that sass,” he whispers, leaning in.
I pull away, not wanting him to kiss me.
Kissing him would mean a lot of things.
None of which I am prepared to deal with.
“You’re with someone. What are you doing?” I ask, narrowing my eyes. “And will you get off my bus?”
“You don’t own the bus,” he states, lifting his hand and trapping me in by placing it on the metal rail in front.
“No, I guess you’re right.” I stand, and as I do, I look down at him. “This is me. Please move so I can get off.”
Grayson does as I say, getting up and stepping back so I can scoot out. He follows me until I am off the bus and standing in front of my apartment, the grass green under my feet, the white building right next to us, and the sky a dark gray, it feels like my personality right now. Mixed with different colors. Thanks to him like always..
“Goodnight, Grayson.”
“You aren’t going to invite me in?” he asks.
“No. Go and see your girlfriend.”
He smirks as a car pulls up. “Get inside, Avani.”
“Still so bossy,” I mutter.
But I do just that.
The next night, I don’t see him as I sit at the bus stop, waiting.
I’m wondering when he will show up. Because I know he will eventually.
I have no doubt he will unless he is preoccupied with her.
When I hear the bus, I look around one more time and still see no sign of him. Climbing onto the bus, the driver nods as I pass him to find my seat. And when I do, I see Grayson sitting there in the same seat as last night. Dressed in all black, he is watching me with keen eyes.
“You caught the bus?” I ask, surprised to see him.
“Something like that,” he mutters as he stands and offers me my usual spot. But I don’t take it and sit in front of him instead. The bus takes off, and his breathing increases. “Are you mad?”
“Why are you here?” I ask.
“Tell me where your car is so I can fix it.” The bus passes the next stop without even slowing down.
I look back at him. “It’s in the garage down the road. Now, tell me why you are on this bus,” I reply, hoping that if I give him something, I’ll get something in return.