Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 94460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
But, like a fool, I did.
Again, my mistake.
My fingers shook in a combination of anger and frustration as I snagged my shorts off the floor and jerked them up my legs. I should clean myself up first, but I wasn’t asking him for that opportunity.
I’d do it when I got back to my own space.
A space free of Ronan.
A space free of me being emotionally whipped.
A space free of Ronan’s emotional damage.
Despite me wanting to get out of there before I released those frustrations, I didn’t make it in time. Words erupted from me like an active volcano. “Why am I letting you do this to me? To use me like this. To treat me like I’m simply one of your boy toys.”
He glanced up from cleaning himself off with a damp paper towel. His dark brown eyes narrowed on me. “Because of your damn guilt. For fucking me over, Tate. That’s why.”
I snagged my T-shirt and yanked it over my head. Once it was in place, I said, “I didn’t mean to do any of that.”
“But you did it anyway.”
I closed my eyes while I pulled in a breath. I was already tired of this fight and it had only just begun. I was letting him get to me when I knew better. “I didn’t want to do that to you.”
“But you did.”
I said it slowly and emphasized each word to make sure he heard each and every one, “I had no choice.”
His jaw shifted and his face turned sharp. “We all have choices. It was also your choice to allow me to do this to you.”
Matching his energy would only make things worse. I needed to be more understanding until he was the same.
I sighed. “You’re right. We all have choices. I’m sorry I keep making the wrong ones and that those choices affected you and still do.” With that, I strode toward the door.
Just as I reached it, a loud, “Tate!” made me pause.
I didn’t want to get my hopes up. That he might apologize for being a dick. Or that he might ask me to stay.
Or just the opposite, he could tell me to go get fucked and not in a sexual way.
“Did you get your car towed?”
My chin jerked back at that unexpected question.
My mouth was bone dry and if I opened it, I was afraid of what I’d say next. I didn’t want to destroy the small steps we had made tonight, despite how he was currently acting. So, I simply shook my head while still staring at the door and my escape.
I needed to get out of there since I was on the verge of breaking down. I didn’t want Ronan to see how easily he could break me.
When I reached for the door handle, something flashed in front of my face.
A small cream-colored card.
I’d been so intent on getting out of there, I hadn’t even heard him approach.
“Text me when you need to leave for work tomorrow. I’ll give you a ride.” His tone was softer but still very guarded.
I stared at the business card. I could make out the name Pak Property Management, Inc. in a maroon font on the front. A phone number was scribbled in black ink across the top.
With a nod, I plucked it from his fingers and crushed it in my fist as I stepped out into the tiny vestibule .
Since I couldn’t bear to wait for the elevator, I took the stairs back to my apartment, instead.
Tate (Now)
I debated about whether to text Ronan or not. I was restless all night going over what happened and what could have been said differently.
Basically, I was overthinking something I couldn’t change. However, I could learn and hopefully improve on the way I would handle it in the future.
He offered to take me to work when he didn’t have to. I couldn’t say no. A half hour before I had to leave for work, I made the decision to text Ronan instead of calling a car service. I really couldn’t afford one since I’d need every spare dime to fix my Toyota.
Earlier in the morning I had called AAA and met the tow truck driver in the parking garage, giving him my keys and telling them to take it to a shop within my covered towing distance, only a measly five miles. He gave me the name of a shop and their number and while I stood watching the Corolla be towed away, the cement block in my gut became even bigger and heavier.
After going back to my apartment and taking a long, hot shower, I texted Ronan, letting him know what time I had to leave. When he didn’t respond after a half hour, I began to worry that he was going to ignore me and I’d need to find another ride.