Total pages in book: 41
Estimated words: 37728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 189(@200wpm)___ 151(@250wpm)___ 126(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 37728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 189(@200wpm)___ 151(@250wpm)___ 126(@300wpm)
“Once he was busy crying about his eyes, I got up as fast as I could and locked myself in my car. My tires burned rubber with how fast I left the parking lot. I couldn’t go get Rocky. The only place I could go was back to my apartment shared with Tully. She’s a vet and was already home. This happened yesterday. Tully doctored me up, called the doggy day care, and asked for them to keep Rocky overnight.
“In the meantime, she took pictures, documented everything, and we called the cops. A lot is still left up in the air. I called Mom and told her there was a change of plans and I was coming. She welcomed me, Tully, and Rocky. They should be here in the next few days.
“So, yes, I had planned on staying in Colorado long enough to get my feet wet, but I knew I’d come home. I just didn’t know it would be under these circumstances.”
I stop talking. My ribs are starting to hurt, as well as the rest of my body. A lot has happened in the last twenty-four hours, and while, yes, Tully watched over me last night, I still didn’t sleep very much. Truth be told, I probably won’t until she and Rocky are out of that shithole.
“You left a lot out, but I get it. It’s a lot to process and deal with, but later on, you’ll tell me more when you’re ready.” Lane brings my hand to his mouth, kissing my knuckles before standing up. “Right now, you need to get horizontal, close your eyes, and sleep.”
“And I can do that on my own. Today is your day. Don’t make me feel bad for ruining the party happening at your parents’.” With my hand still in Lane’s, he helps me up from my seat.
“I’ve already got what I want for my birthday.” My eyes close. This is the Lane Johnson I never should have left, the selfless, fierce protector and all-around amazing man.
“Lane.”
“You rest. We’ll work out the rest later.” I nod. There’s not a chance in hell I have the strength to argue with this man. Lane leads me toward my room one slow step at a time. When Mom walked me into my childhood room earlier, I realized she had never changed a thing. It seems like Lane will be seeing it as well.
5
LANE
“I’ll be just a minute,” Birdie tells me, making a detour to the hall bathroom.
“You need help, holler. Now isn’t the time to hurt yourself worse.” I’m sure I already made her pain ten times worse already. Greedy, that’s what I am when it comes to Beatrice “Birdie” Robertson. Any place, anywhere, and any damn time I’m around her.
“I hear you.” She doesn’t look back as she walks her sultry self into the bathroom and closes the door behind her. I’ve been inside her pussy, her ass, her mouth, and taken numerous showers with her. Yet, going to the bathroom, she closes the door. Some things never change. Since I’m not heading back to Mom and Dad’s anytime soon, I pull my phone out of my back pocket. I’ll bet Birdie hasn’t eaten yet either. Maybe her mom will bring us both a plate or at least maybe mine will set dinner aside for when I head back home.
Me: Not gonna make it back. You think you can make up two plates?
I hear Birdie making noises and pocket my phone. She doesn’t need to worry or think I’m ruining my night by hanging with her.
“Birdie, you good, babe?” I hear the flushing of the toilet, the on and off of the water, yet she still isn’t out. My mind plays the what-if game. What if she’s in too much pain? What if she fell? What if she’s breaking down and I’m not there to hold her? I’m not a damn fool. Birdie may have put up a good front for now. In the quiet of the night or when she thinks no one is around, that’s when she’ll break down.
“Yeah,” she replies through the fucking door. I’m moving from my place, hand reaching out to turn the handle, when she appears in the doorway. “I went ahead and brushed my teeth. Sleep didn’t come easy last night, and who knows if I’ll wake up before morning.” She lets out a yawn. She’s so damn pretty, even with dark circles beneath her eyes, hair a tangled mess, and lips that are plump from her biting on them. The part that hits me in the solar plexus every damn time is that she has no damn idea how beautiful she truly is.
“Good idea. You need anything else? A glass of water?” She lets out another yawn, and I know it’s time to get her in bed before she falls asleep standing up.