Total pages in book: 142
Estimated words: 131330 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 525(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131330 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 525(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
“The fuck?” Aspen demands. “A cry for attention? Why don’t you come over here and say that? I’ll show you a fucking cry for attention.”
“Chill out, Aspen. Just . . . fuck. We’re getting off track here.”
“Ya think?” she grunts. “This whole call is off track.”
“Just . . . What did you mean you’ve already told him to fuck off?” Austin asks, making an effort to calm his tone.
Aspen lets out a heavy sigh, and I have to refrain from scooping the phone out of Austin’s hand and taking over. She sounds so disappointed, broken almost, and I want nothing more than to drive over there and make sure she’s alright. “He came by an hour ago. We were supposed to go out to eat, but according to him, I wasn’t worth the meal, and he thought we should just fuck instead.”
“The fuck?” I grunt as the same disgust flashes in Austin’s stare.
“Despite what you two clearly think of me, I’m not a complete lost cause,” she says. “I have respect for myself, and believe it or not, my standards are a shitload higher than yours. Besides, I highly doubt either of you can honestly say that you haven’t had a random one-night stand before, so why is it such a big deal if I do?”
“Because like you just pointed out, you’re better than us,” I tell her. “You have higher standards for yourself, and I don’t want to see you screwed over by losers. Neither of us do.”
Aspen groans. “I’m hanging up now.”
“You’re okay though?” Austin asks.
“I’m fine,” she mutters, her tone suggesting she’s anything but.
“He’s wrong,” I tell her.
There’s a short silence before her tone sails through the small speakers again. “What?”
“That you’re not worth the meal. He’s wrong,” I tell her, ignoring the strange stare I receive from Austin. “You are. You’re worth so much more than that, and I’m glad you had the self-respect to tell him to fuck off. Though, we do need to have a chat about giving out your address to assholes you’ve never met.”
“And we need to have a chat about your need to tell my brother my business,” she says with a heavy sigh. “You’re an asshole, Izaac.”
“He was just concerned about you,” Austin says, always having my back.
“Right,” she says slowly. “That’s what he was concerned about.”
My heart lurches in my chest, panic blasting through my veins as Austin’s brows furrow, clearly having no idea what Aspen means by that, but he’s too worked up to put much thought into it. “Just . . . promise me there will be no more random hookups with strangers.”
“It wasn’t a hookup,” Aspen groans. “It was a plan to grab something to eat with the possibility of hot sex afterward. You know, after I’d gotten to know him a little bit. But it doesn’t matter anyway. He’s gone, and my legs are practically superglued together, so why are we still discussing it?”
“Yeah, okay,” Austin says. “I guess I’ll talk to you later.”
“Whatever,” Aspen says before the call goes dead.
I cringe, that definitely could have gone better, and sure, I feel like an ass for dropping her in shit with her brother, but on the other hand, she’s not fucking random strangers. I’m the only random stranger she’ll be fucking . . . or fucked. Past tense because it’s definitely not happening again. But I suppose the real question is, why the fuck am I thinking about this while sitting barely a foot away from her brother?
“Fucking hell,” Austin mutters. “That was a close one.”
“Right,” I agree. “But she’s good though. Seems she’s making better decisions than we did in college.”
Austin grins. “Fuck, those college days were wild.”
“Exactly my point.”
He nods. “Yeah, well, thanks for letting me know. I mean it, if something had happened to her, I’d never be able to forgive myself. I know she thinks I’m too hard on her and always butting into her business, but I just want her to be safe.”
“I know, man,” I say, reaching out and dropping my hand to his shoulder in encouragement. “Now, tell me about this restaurant. Did my architect make it out today?”
“Yeah,” he sighs with relief, his whole demeanor shifting as a wide grin stretches across his face. “That man is a fucking miracle worker. He’s got a few ideas that could get me back on track. He’ll be drawing it up first thing Monday morning, and we’ll go from there.”
“Thank fuck for that,” I say, getting up from the coffee table and meeting his stare. “I’ve gotta get out of here. I was supposed to be at Cherry ages ago. You wanna come for a drink?”
“Nah, man. I’m gonna call it a night. It was a fucking huge day.”
“Alright. Suit yourself,” I say, and with that, I head for the door.