Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 63761 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63761 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
“You’re quick with that mouth of yours, but the way your eyes dilated and your breaths sped up, tells me you’re all talk and no action,” he murmurs.
The sound of a door slamming shatters the moment, and then I hear Layla call, “Kingsley, are you here?”
I pull away from Mason and rush out of the bathroom to where Layla is standing in the living room.
“All patched up,” I say sounding a little breathless and taking her hand, I drag her out of the suite as fast as I possibly can.
“Are you okay?” she asks when we get to the elevator.
“Yes, and I’m starving,” I use the excuse because we were on our way to get something for lunch when we came across the fight.
“Doesn’t it hurt? Will you be able to eat?” she asks, her eyes scanning over my face, and I just know she can see something happened between Mason and me.
“I will suck it through a damn straw if I have to,” I say, and when the corners of her mouth tip up, I begin to ramble, “It’s just weird when he’s not biting my head off and doing… ahh… you know, patching up the cut.”
“Yeah?” She nudges her arm against mine. “So weird you forgot to wash your hands?”
“Shoot.” I look down and then pull a grossed-out face.
“Yeah, I thought so,” she chuckles, and we first stop by her room so I can clean up, before going for lunch.
Chapter 9
Mason
Standing with my hands braced on the counter, I stare at myself in the mirror.
What the hell was that?
Definitely not attraction.
She’s not my type.
And she annoys me.
She might be cute and have incredible blue eyes, but that’s where it ends.
And that mouth…
Which got hurt because of me.
The thought is sobering, making me remember the fight.
Hatred burns through me, turning my gaze hard. I’m going to end West. It’s only a matter of time.
“Are you okay?” Falcon asks.
Turning around, I see him standing in the doorway, and I nod.
“You sure?”
“Yeah,” I lie because I hate making Falcon and Lake worry.
“I’m going to ask him to leave. You guys can’t keep going on like this.”
“That would be for the best,” Lake agrees as he leans sideways against the door jamb next to Falcon.
I shake my head. “That won’t solve shit.”
“Why do you want to keep him around?” Falcon asks.
“I’m not keeping him around,” I answer, then my voice drops low, as I admit, “I’m torturing him.”
“Yeah, the guy looks like he ran into a wall,” Lake mumbles.
“You want him to live with the guilt?” Falcon asks.
The corner of my mouth twitches because I’ve seen small changes in him since he started dating Layla. He doesn’t brush shit off anymore but digs until he gets to the truth.
“Yes.” I let out a breath. “I can’t carry it all by myself.”
“Can we continue this conversation in the living room?” Lake asks.
“You just want to lie down,” I joke as we leave my room.
“No, I just don’t want to have a heart to heart with you where you shit and shower,” Lake teases back.
We sit down and place our feet on the table, then Lake turns all serious again. “It won’t make it better.”
“That’s for fucking sure,” I agree, then add, “Nothing can make it better. At the end of the day, she’s still gone.”
“Do you remember when she caught us using her nail polish to paint our cars?” Falcon asks.
A smile spreads over my face when the memory comes to me. “She was so pissed at us.”
“She couldn’t stay angry, though.” Falcon removes his feet from the table, and resting his forearms on his thighs, he pins me with an intense look. “Jennifer loved you more than anyone. You could do anything, and she would forgive you.”
“That doesn’t mean I deserve forgiveness,” I whisper.
“It was an accident,” Lake adds.
“I had time to pull her away,” I remind them.
“Did you?” Falcon asks. He gets up and comes to sit on my left side. “Did you really have time?”
I close my eyes, and the scene replays itself in my mind.
I quickly glance at Jennifer, and when her wide eyes meet mine, I feel a moment of relief.
One second.
We both look down at the branch.
Two seconds.
“Fuck that was close.”
Three seconds.
“Yeah.”
Four seconds.
I begin to pull my left arm back.
Five Seconds.
Squealing tires has me glancing behind us.
Six seconds.
I throw my body to the left.
Seven.
I nod with certainty. “I had seven seconds. Instead of staring at the damn branch, I should’ve unclipped her seatbelt. Instead of thinking about how lucky we were that it stopped inches from us, I should have pulled her to me. By the time I heard the squealing tires, Jen would have been safely in my arms.”
“You had no way of knowing you’d be hit from behind,” Lake argues, “Do you blame Kingsley for getting hurt?”