Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 124923 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 416(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124923 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 416(@300wpm)
I hesitate, eyeing him as if he’s a stranger offering candy, but then I decide that I do, in fact, need another drink. And I do, in fact, want to get away from these people. I let him guide me away, and I almost change my mind on principle when I turn around to see my mother’s triumphant smile. Then I see the barely concealed contempt in her eyes. She’s upset with me. What else is new? I don’t give it another thought, though. The best thing about being out on my own is that I don’t have to overanalyze every little expression, every subtle shift in her mood or body language. I was so hypervigilant, so attuned to the minute changes in demeanor that I was damn near psychic. To say that I can read people well is an understatement.
“Sorry about him,” Liam murmurs, his fingers grazing my lower back as he leads me toward one of the bars on the perimeter of the room. I reach behind me to swat his hand away. “You’re not twenty-one yet,” he states.
“And?” They don’t exactly ask for IDs at these things. I’ve been sneaking drinks for years.
“I’ll order for you.”
“Not necessary,” I say, but he’s already walking up to the bar. As he talks to the bartender, I lift onto my tiptoes, still not tall enough even with my heels to see over the masses, scanning the room for Shayne once more. I don’t see her, but I do catch a glimpse of my dad. His new fiancée is on his arm as they approach my mom and Lawrence. I watch as my mom looks around, no doubt seeking me out, so I take a subtle step to my left, concealing myself behind a big guy with a boisterous laugh. I’ve only been here for a handful of minutes, and I’ve already had enough.
“I’m glad I ran into you,” Liam says as he hands me a new drink. It looks similar to the last one, except this one has an orange spiral instead of a lemon.
“That makes one of us.”
“Come on, Valen. Are you really still mad at me?”
I blink at him. “I’m not mad at you. I don’t feel anything for you.”
He winces at my words. “And that’s the crux of it all, isn’t it?”
I mash my lips together, having no desire to continue this conversation. “It was great seeing you, Liam,” I say, every word dripping with sarcasm. “Enjoy your night.”
“Wait, Valen.” He catches me by the elbow. “What I meant to say is I’m sorry.”
I turn around to face him, raising a brow. “For cheating on me? Or for calling me a slut?”
“All of it. I just—I never knew where I stood with you.”
“This doesn’t sound like an apology.”
“I’m getting there, I swear.” When I don’t walk away, he takes that as his cue to continue. “I was used to getting whatever I wanted. Whoever I wanted. Then you came along and made me work for it. But then, even when I had you, you were never fully in it.”
“Once again. Not an apology.”
“I was insecure as fuck,” he spits out, surprising me. “You didn’t need me.”
I don’t know why I’m entertaining him or this conversation. He’s served his purpose of getting me away from my mom, but still, I find myself responding. “I liked you. Wasn’t that enough?”
“I loved you,” he counters. “When I left for school, you didn’t even miss me. Tara was there, and she wanted me, and instead of talking to you about how I felt—”
“You decided to feel her instead,” I finish for him.
He pinches the bridge of his nose and lets out a self-deprecating chuckle. “I was an asshole, and you didn’t deserve it. That’s all I wanted to say.”
“Thanks. I guess.”
“Friends?” He flashes his million-dollar smile.
I shrug a shoulder. “Probably not.” I finally spot Shayne. She’s standing at the bottom of the grand staircase, staring at the phone in her hand, biting the thumbnail of her other hand, looking suspicious as hell. “I have to go.”
“Still heartless, I see.” His smile tells me that he’s teasing, but I can feel the truth in his barb. “See you around, Valen.”
I make my way across the room and over to Shayne. Her head snaps up when she senses my presence, sagging with relief when she sees that it’s me.
“We’ve really got to work on your poker face,” I tell her. She cracks a smile, so it must not be anything too bad, but then she notices my dress, and her mouth falls open.
“Holy shit.” She laughs, looking me up and down. “You look insane. Even I want to marry you.”
“So do you.” Her dress is a gorgeous, formfitting wine colored mini dress held up by thin straps. “So, are we on a top-secret mission?”