Total pages in book: 9
Estimated words: 7640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 38(@200wpm)___ 31(@250wpm)___ 25(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 7640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 38(@200wpm)___ 31(@250wpm)___ 25(@300wpm)
She doesn’t play the shy one and cut her stare. Bella is a contradiction of sweet and bold in ways that test my desire to see her submissive, but I’d be willing to teach her. “I was just teasing you about only having a taste,” she dares. “You can have whatever you want.”
There’s an invitation in her words, be it intentional or not, but there are other words in my head, beating down my hunger for Bella. Allison’s words. The words from the journal play in my head, the heart wants what the heart wants. I’d reason with myself that this is about what the body wants, which is an entirely different thing. But I cannot be so blasé about Bella, not when my guilt over Allison’s death might as well be the actual ghost of Allison whispering in my ear—demanding that I be better and do better by Bella than I did with her.
“I don’t think that would be fair of me, now, would it?” I ask, and I’m not talking about taking her ice cream. For all I know she really was, and I’m simply the bastard one would expect my father’s son to become. I sit back and reach for the pint I’ve opened. “This one is good.”
Considering my cock is hard as fuck and ice cream is the closest thing to a cold shower in my near future, I dig in. For long moments, that perhaps stretch into minutes, we eat in silence. In that silence I do not find awkwardness, nor do I find peace. I find accusation and blame. I find the screams of a woman who left this world too soon, and because of me. I cannot touch Bella. I will not touch Bella. If I had just left Allison alone, she might be alive today. And while I’m fairly certain Bella would be the death of me, not the opposite, it’s not a risk I can take. Though it would be a punishment I deserve.
Chapter Five
Tyler
“You didn’t kill her, Tyler,” Bella blurts as if she is reading my mind.
I glance over at her. “I did my part.”
“Should you have gotten involved with an employee?” she asks, setting her pint down. “No. Does it happen? All the time and no one dies. You’re human.”
“And she’s dead.”
“Because she chose to get involved with your father. Because he chose to kill her. You were not a party to the decisions that lead to her death.”
“I started the cycle.”
“Did you? Because there are rumors that she dated him before you and then went back to him.”
The idea punches me in the gut for reasons I can’t even let myself identify right now. “That’s not true.”
“How do you know?”
I set the ice cream down, reach for the journal and lift it. “Because she wrote about it all. Because the police say so. Because she said so.”
Bella curls her fingers around the blanket and eases back into the chair again. “How long has it been since you dated her?’
“Over a year.”
“That’s a long time, Tyler. Too long for you to wrap yourself in the blame game."
I set the journal on the table beside the ice cream, taunting us both with its presence. “If you read her words, you’d hate me.”
“You try to make me hate you most days at work, and you still don’t succeed. I’m not easily manipulated. Relationships always have two subjective sides, and I have no business inside yours. Neither did your father. He tried to demean your role at Hawk Legal every chance he got. He was getting old, and he wasn’t ready to let you be the king of the castle. No doubt, he wanted what you have. Youth, success, and her. He did this, not you. Remember that. Please.”
I pick up the ice cream pint again, wondering how she’d react if I mixed a shot in with it.
She scoots forward and grabs the remote to the television. Instinctively, I set down the ice cream and reach out and grab her hand. She sucks in a breath. I hold one in, a muscle in my jaw pulsing. I’ve made the mistake of removing the contact barrier and now that I’ve touched her, I want to keep touching her.
Her eyes lift to mine and she clears her throat. “If you don’t want to watch TV—”
I force myself to let her go, not pull her to me, dropping her hand before I lose the resolve to do so. “I don’t want to watch the news. The media can’t seem to talk about anything but my family.”
“I was thinking about torturing you with a chick flick. I saw on my listings earlier that Dirty Dancing is showing. Patrick Swayze.” She sighs and thumps her chest with her fist. “Be still my heart.” She indicates the remote. “Can I?