Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 67432 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67432 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Another crack of lightning sounded from overhead. I took the keys out of my pocket and turned toward the door, trying not to focus on the disappointment and hurt that had started to creep through my chest. I had gotten my hopes up. Let myself fall for a fantasy that was just that: a fantasy. Something reserved for the pages of a book, not for the real world.
“I’m really sorry, Colton. If I were single, things would be different.”
“Yeah. I’m really sorry, too. For ever swiping right on you.”
Shane ran a hand through his messy brown hair, his expression turning pained. “Don’t say that. I’d never consider you a regret.”
“So you think considering me as a side piece is any better?” I could feel the temperature in the room rising. My self-worth was taking a hit, alongside my heart and my ego. What was it about me that made every single fucking guy in my life use me like a wet rag, tossing me to the side when they were done with me? Why couldn’t I find a man who wanted me as badly as I wanted him? Someone I could trust wholeheartedly, who I could share memories with and travel the world with and not have to worry about.
“Maybe you can meet Dixon? Maybe if all three of us get along—”
“Even if I was open to the idea of a throuple, do you genuinely think I’d want to do it with you? After what you’re putting me through?” I laughed, the sound coming out like a hyena cackle. “No fucking way.”
I didn’t want to hear any more. Shane said all he had to say, and I was left to deal with it on my own. I’d dealt with much worse; this would likely only suck for a few days, but that still didn’t blunt the way I currently felt. With my shoulders slumped and my tail between my legs, I left Shane’s apartment for the last time, deciding I was done with men for the foreseeable future. Maybe it was time I focused on myself. Maybe I needed to guard my heart a little better than I’d done in the past.
Outside, the rain was coming down in sheets. Wind rattled a nearby street sign that looked like it was five seconds away from taking flight. I had parked on the street across from his building, so I put an arm over my head and ran for it, jumping over a puddle and into another one before I reached the car.
I got in, rain streaking down my face, my shirt and shorts soaked after that brief jog through the rain. I wiped it off with the back of my hand and took out my phone. My heart raced. Thunder roared from the storm that only appeared to be getting stronger, the sky blotted out by ink-dark clouds that were only visible when lightning struck.
I opened my contacts and called the one person I had on my mind, the one person who always knew what to say when life was messy.
The phone rang and rang and rang. No one answered, like I expected. The voicemail prompt came on before the beep sounded.
“Hi, Mom.” Instantly, my voice began to crack. “I miss you.” I looked ahead, wondering if the blur in my vision was from the rain on the windshield or the tears in my eyes. “I could really use some of your famous pick-me-ups right now. I’m having some boy trouble and don’t know what to do to fix it. I remember you telling me to value my heart more than my heart’s desires, and that really stuck with me. I’m trying to put myself first, but I can’t help it. I want to be with someone. I want to share my life with someone special. I just can’t find that special someone.”
The voicemail message cut me off, telling me it had gone on long enough. I let my head drop against the headrest and gripped the steering wheel tight.
Life didn’t seem fair, not in the slightest. Here I was, in a brand-new city, a few weeks away from flying off to a scenic chateau so I could spend the days with my mom’s potential killer, and I’d just been broken up with. That wasn’t even taking into account the bump-in I’d had with none other than Eric Ruiz, the first man who had broken my heart and also one of the only men I felt could help me figure out who’d killed my mom.
Nah, none of this shit seemed fair, but then again, what the hell had I done to deserve a smooth ride through life? Sure, I tried to be a good person and always made sure to never leave anyone hurt in my wake, but that didn’t mean I automatically earned a drama-free pass. As nice as that sounded, I also realized how unrealistic it was.