Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 133855 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 669(@200wpm)___ 535(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133855 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 669(@200wpm)___ 535(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
His hand caressed down my left arm. It left a trail of flames in its wake. He didn’t stop until he was tracing over the bracelet that his son had made. The one I wore around my wrist. One I doubted I would ever remove. “We need to end this now before it hurts too much. My son is already half in love with you.”
I’m already half in love with you.
I didn’t dare say it.
Emotion gathered in my throat, my words thick and soggy when I admitted, “I care about him so much.”
Too much.
My eyes glistened in the bare reflection, and Trent watched me like he didn’t need me to say it. That he felt it. Saw it. The way I saw something shine in him, too.
“Would give anything to be a different man for you.”
But that was the thing. I didn’t think I wanted anyone different. I wanted him.
Reckless.
Another chip stacked against us. A push to admit he was right.
We would never work.
My nod was jerky. Pulled out of me against my will.
Trent’s was slow and resigned.
Then he pressed the softest kiss to the underside of my jaw. His mouth rested there.
Lingering.
I could feel him squeeze his eyes closed as he savored.
Relished.
As he remembered.
He held me tight for another moment before he peeled himself away, then the man stalked back across the room.
I could physically feel him taking the storm with him.
The whooshing of the receding wind and the void it left behind.
My breath and a piece of my heart I never should have let him have.
My lungs shuddered with the impact, my body frozen in position where I stared at the man walking away through the mirror.
He paused at the door, and he tossed me a tender grin from over his shoulder. “See ya around, Kitten.”
Wistfulness tugged at my lips. Not quite a smile, though it still held more adoration than either of us could afford.
One second later, Trent opened the door and was gone.
Right along with a piece of me that I would never get back.
Eighteen
Eden
Do you remember…
Do you remember when Aaron moved in next door? Do you remember how you two gravitated toward each other? The two of you were the meaning of fast friends. Like you’d known each other your whole lives. Like you knew each other inside and out.
Do you remember how I was filled with jealousy?
I didn’t mean to be, but I think there was a selfish streak in me all along. The part of me that wanted everything to go my way. Exactly how I wanted it. You all for my own.
Do you remember how I lashed out? How I threw fits and accused Aaron of being mean? That he wouldn’t let me play or lied and said he’d ripped my doll’s head off when it was me? Do you remember how I’d go to Momma and cry?
Or maybe you don’t. Maybe you were too good and kind even then that you still saw the best in me.
Do you remember how sometimes I took it out on you? How I’d push you down or laugh in your face, and then at night when you were sad, I’d crawl into your bed, wrap my arms around you, and apologize?
I remember, Eden. And I wish I could go back to those days and mean it when I said I was sorry. I wish I could start over then.
Harmony
Nineteen
Trent
I tried to kick the box of tequila out of the way where it was sitting on the floor behind the bar. Admittedly, with more force than necessary. But there was no way to control it. The way irritation swept through my bloodstream, reaching every cell, making me feel like I was coming unglued.
Glass clanked as the edge of the box caught on something, keeping it from sliding into the spot where I was trying to wedge it.
Like it was going to solve something, I kicked it harder with my boot.
It didn’t budge.
I kicked again.
Then I was kicking it over and over.
Until I was holding onto the barback and fuckin’ wailing away on the piece of shit, like I could beat this feeling out of my system.
Ruin something else instead of letting it ruin this bit of me.
“Whoa, there, bossman. What the fuck is going down with you? Those bottles of Milagros aren’t gonna make it better unless you pour them down your throat and not onto the floor. You catch my meaning?”
I was jolted from the anger by Sage’s teasing voice, and I kept holding onto the countertop, head cast down and panting for air, trying to find my sanity before I turned my aggression on him.
“Nothing is going down,” I grated. Straightening, I scrubbed a palm over my face to chase away this stupidity.
He scoffed. “You’ve been a surly motherfucker for the last week.”
“Maybe that’s because all this shit is lying around where it isn’t supposed to be. Get it cleaned up, yeah?” My teeth ground with the words, the frustration still getting out no matter how hard I tried to stop it.