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)
No answer.
Fuck.
Getting out to the street, I barrel into my Escalade and hit the gas, flying toward Aspen’s apartment. It’s only a short ten-minute drive, but I do it in six, speeding right through the red lights and flying way above the speed limit.
My front tire runs up over the curb as I come to a screeching halt outside her apartment, and within seconds, I’m out of my car and storming through the entrance to the complex. My heart races with every step I take, forcing myself faster, convinced something terrible has happened.
I don’t know what I’m about to walk into, but I prepare myself for the worst, knowing that whatever it is, it’s on me.
Reaching her apartment, I shove my spare key into the lock, the very one both Austin and I had made in case of emergencies, and without a second of hesitation, I throw the door open. Rushing inside, my gaze shoots from left to right, desperately seeking her out.
“ASPEN?” I call, racing toward her bedroom.
“WHAT IN THE EVER-LOVING FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?”
I pause, twisting around toward the sound of her voice, and find Aspen standing in the doorway of her small bathroom with a vile of mascara in her hand and a glare bigger than Texas across her face. “I thought—”
“Whatever the fuck you thought, you’re wrong,” she says, clearly not impressed with my intrusion.
“Where the fuck have you been? You were supposed to meet me at eight.”
Aspen scoffs and turns away, walking back into her bathroom and getting to work on her makeup, though she doesn’t need it. She’s fucking flawless. “I wasn’t supposed to do shit,” she tells me. “Besides, I’m going out. I’ve got a date.”
Over my dead body.
25
ASPEN
I’m gonna kill him. It’s the only logical thing to do.
What the hell does he think he’s doing storming in here like that anyway? I swear, the audacity of this man infuriates me like never before, but I do what I can to keep my composure. After all, Becs and I are going out tonight. Not that Izaac needs to know that. I might have fudged the details about my plans, but if I mean so little to him, then why should my plans matter?
I continue getting ready for my night, more than pleased with the look on his face.
“The fuck did you just say?” Izaac demands, hovering in the bathroom doorway as I put a little blush on my cheeks.
“You heard me loud and clear, Izaac. I’m going out on a date. You know, it’s one of those things people do when they like each other. The guy asks the girl out and then she gets all flustered and says, Of course, I’ll go out with you, and then he takes her out for a night to remember, and it’s absolutely magical.”
He gives me a blank stare. “I know what a fucking date is, Aspen.”
“Oh. Could have fooled me,” I mutter, turning back to my mirror while searching out my favorite lip gloss. “I thought your idea of treating a woman well was fucking her like a whore in dark hallways and making her feel like a fucking idiot for wanting you so bad.”
Finished with my makeup, I stride out of the bathroom, forcing him out of my way before I hook around to my bedroom and search through my closet for something to wear. If I were just meeting Becs, I would usually wear jeans, boots, and some kind of top that showed off just a little bit of cleavage, but now that this asshole thinks I’m going out on a date, I have no choice but to dress the part.
Izaac goes to follow me into my bedroom, but I hold up my hand, stopping him by the door. “Careful,” I say as I turn back toward my closet. “There’s a bed in here. I wouldn’t want you to accidentally break your rules and fall into my bed.”
“Fucking hell,” he mutters. “Can we just talk about this?”
“Oh, sure. Let’s chat,” I say, pulling out two little black dresses, one much more revealing than the other. I hold them up toward Izaac. “Which one?”
His brows furrow. “What?”
“For my date tonight. Which dress should I wear?”
He groans and rolls his eyes before pointing to the more modest dress of the two. “That one,” he mutters, clearly not thrilled about having any part in helping me dress for another man. I mean, don’t get me wrong, Harrison and I do have a date planned, but it’s not until Friday night, so until then, I will take every pleasure in torturing Izaac with it.
“Good choice,” I say, tossing the modest dress over my shoulder and holding on to the skanky one. Becs would be so proud.
Izaac rolls his eyes and turns away before striding toward my coffee table and dropping his ass onto it as I strip down to my bra and thong. He watches me through the open doorway, and I do what I can to put a little extra effort into dressing, taking my time as I pull the soft fabric up my body. “You wanted to talk?” I question, raising my voice just a bit so he can still hear. “I have to leave in ten, so you’re gonna have to make it fast.”