Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 74022 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74022 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
How did I let myself get into this mess?
I pull out my phone and glance down to see a message from him, and my stupid heart flutters to life. It was sent last night, it must have been after I went to sleep. I click into it quickly, and read it.
Boston – I won’t be home tonight. Hope everything is okay. If you need anything, anything at all. Call me.
I exhale. If he was with another woman, he wouldn’t ask me to call him, right?
Right?
Why is this making me feel so...insecure?
I decide to call him, because I’m not a teenaged girl anymore and I need to start acting less like one. We’re friends. I’m Cassie’s carer. That’s it. I can’t let all these emotions cloud my thoughts, it’s not helping. Not Boston. Not me. Not anyone.
Boston answers on the fourth ring, and his voice is groggy. I know I’ve just woken him up, which makes me feel even worse.
“Hey,” he murmurs, and his voice sends shivers up my spine.
That’s the voice you want to wake up to for the rest of your life. That voice is heavenly.
“Morning,” I say softly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you’d still be asleep.”
“All good. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, everything is okay here. I just got your message and was checking in. I didn’t see it last night.”
“Yeah,” he murmurs, and I can hear the sounds of him shuffling about. “Just wanted you to know I wouldn’t be home so you didn’t worry. Had to stay at Chantelle’s for the night.”
Those words hit me like a blow to the chest. Harder than I expected. I knew I cared, but in this moment, I realize that I’m also incredibly jealous, and I hate that. What I hate more, is that I can’t stop my thoughts from going wild. From going to him and Chantelle making love while I’m here looking like an idiot.
And then, stupid me, stupid idiot me, lets my mouth go before my brain kicks in and I process the onslaught of emotions I’m feeling right now. If I stopped, took a deep breath, and calmed myself down, it wouldn’t happen.
But I don’t do that.
Like the idiot I am.
“Right,” I whisper. “So I’m not allowed to do anything with you, but you stay at her house. You know what, Boston, if she is what you want I would have much rather you tell me instead of leading me to believe that you weren’t going near either one of us.”
Toward the end, my whisper becomes an angry, but low, tone.
“First of all,” he growls, “I’m here because she got a note yesterday threatenin’ her, and I wanted to make sure she was okay, no different to me lettin’ you stay in my fuckin’ house to make sure you’re okay. Second, I’m on the fuckin’ sofa, and I didn’t lay a finger on her. But that, once again, has nothin’ to fuckin’ do with anyone. Said I wasn’t leadin’ either of you on, and I’m not. I’m keepin’ my hands to myself, but you’re both makin’ it fuckin’ hard for me, gettin’ into shit and needin’ protection.”
“You could get anyone else to protect us, if it’s so hard for you,” I snap, and then clench my eyes shut because, I’m acting like a stinking child.
“You rather I fuckin’ let you be, on your own, with nowhere to fuckin’ live. You’re Cassie’s carer, and you’re my friend. Not in my nature to leave you with fuck all when you’re in trouble, and same goes for Chantelle. Fuck. This is doin’ my fuckin’ head in. I’m goin’, because I’m pissed off now and I need to calm down.”
He hangs up the phone, and shame creeps up my cheeks and rolls into my body, taking over, making me feel like utter rubbish for being as dramatic as I just was. He owes me nothing. Hell, he owes nobody anything. If he wants Chantelle, he can have her. If he wants another woman, he can have her. What he does is his choice. I’m the one who let feelings get the better of me.
He’s been nothing but kind to me.
And now I feel like an absolute idiot.
“You okay?”
I spin around and see Cassie wheeling into the room, her hair still messy from sleep, her eyes locked on mine. I take a deep breath, but it shakes, which makes me feel even worse. “Yeah, I’m okay.”
“I call bullshit,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Now, I’ll ask again, and this time you’ll tell me the truth because I heard that conversation, at least one side of it. Are you okay?”
I exhale and look down at my feet. “He didn’t deserve me to go off on him like that. This whole situation is messing with my head. I could just walk away from it completely, but it feels like I’m tangled and can’t get myself out, no matter which way I turn.”