Total pages in book: 176
Estimated words: 167257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 836(@200wpm)___ 669(@250wpm)___ 558(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 167257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 836(@200wpm)___ 669(@250wpm)___ 558(@300wpm)
I sucked in a deep breath and opened the shower door.
My stomach sank when I watched the muscles in his back and shoulders bunch when he realized he was no longer alone. I swallowed down the grim feeling clawing its way up my throat and forced myself forward until I could feel the familiar warmth of his skin chasing away the chill of my own.
“Owen?”
As if the sound of my voice and the question behind it caused him too much pain, his only response was to lift the bottle to his lips again and guzzle down the brown liquid in his race to reach the bottom.
I grabbed his arm and turned him around to face me before he could give himself alcohol poisoning.
A slap in the face would have been a softer, kinder blow than the sheer disgust in his eyes that knocked me back a step.
Refusing to back down, I closed the gap between us and took his face between my hands.
“What is going on? Why won’t you talk to me?”
As if he wanted to hurt me, Rowdy knocked my hands away and lifted the bottle to his lips again. I snatched the bottle before he could take another swig and let it fall to the shower floor, the liquor spilling onto the clean white tile and mixing with the water before disappearing down the drain.
“Tell me what’s wrong!”
He sucked in a breath. And then… “I can’t.”
And that was that. He kissed me… on my forehead before pushing me aside and stepping out of the shower.
Even though every fiber of my being wanted to, I didn’t chase him.
I stayed put, feeling numbness set in as I stood under the spray until the water ran cold, forcing me from the confines of the shower.
I was on autopilot as I maneuvered through my nightly hygiene ritual before leaving the bathroom.
My eyes traveled unwillingly to the bed, expecting to see Rowdy already tucked under the sheets, but instead, I found it empty. The sheets remained undisturbed from when I’d made the bed this morning.
I slipped into a pair of sleep shorts with the matching cami, but when Rowdy still hadn’t appeared, I murdered a piece of my pride and trailed from the bedroom to find him.
The house was quiet save for the sound of the dog next door barking his head off. The German shepherd had been more noisy than usual these last few days—usually at night when everyone was asleep.
I headed downstairs and into the living room, where I found Rowdy passed out on the couch, face down and snoring.
On the outside, it seemed insignificant.
A blip in our story.
A small rough patch that all couples go through every once in a while.
But inside, in my heart, it felt like the end of everything.
Today was my Saturday shift with Golden, and since Rowdy had been avoiding me all week, I knew he wouldn’t come in today.
He usually did.
He usually found some excuse or reason to follow me here on his days off, but he never actually did any work. He just flirted and harassed me the whole time.
I waited the usual half-hour it took him to show up before I accepted that he wasn’t coming.
Ignoring my hurt, I snuck up to the second floor of the shop and to his office. Rowdy was too arrogant to lock it, and no one except me was crazy enough to enter without his permission.
I glanced over my shoulder to make sure the coast was clear before slipping inside. I didn’t exhale until the door was closed behind me. And I didn’t dare turn on the light. Instead, I blindly made my way past the desk and over to the bookcase, where the teal tackle box sat on a shelf.
Digging the stolen key out of my jeans, I didn’t hesitate before sticking it inside the lock.
I didn’t know if Rowdy had been telling the truth and the box meant nothing to him or if it was dumb luck that he hadn’t noticed the key missing in the weeks since I’d taken it.
At first, I told myself I needed to wait until his guard was down—until he’d forgotten about our argument over the box. The truth was I hadn’t wanted to know what was in it. I wanted to stay in la-la land where there was no pain or loneliness.
Only Rowdy and me. Only love.
Because I’d trusted him when he said there was nothing worth knowing inside.
Now…
I blew out a breath and flipped open the lid. My throat became clogged when I saw what was inside.
A dozen or so folded sheets of yellowed notebook paper stashed inside.
With trembling hands, I plucked the top square from the pile. As if fate wanted to twist the knife a little deeper, written on the front in a familiar script were the words For Your Eyes Only inside a hand-drawn heart.