Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 92422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 370(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
It’s carefully that he repeats, “We can stay married if we want to.”
“I don’t understand.” I shake my head in confusion. “Is that what you want?”
He settles back on the chair again before shrugging.
The gesture might seem casual.
The look on his face is anything but.
17
COLBY
Fuck.
Britt is staring at me like I’m the very devil come to drag her to hell.
What’s become clear is that I’m going about this all wrong.
It’s tempting to drag a hand down my face, but I force myself to remain still. The girl is like a startled animal. Any sudden movements on my part and she’ll bolt from the coffee shop. It took days to track her ass down so we could have this convo. I’d checked with her friends, scoured campus, and stalked her apartment building like a creeper.
It’s like she’s purposefully avoiding me.
It was a stroke of luck when I walked past The Roasted Bean and spotted her in the window. Even though I don’t like blowing off class, this situation needs to get hashed out before either of us can move on.
Separately.
Or together.
When I’d shoved through the glass door of the shop fifteen minutes ago, there’d been an entire spiel on the tip of my tongue about contacting our family lawyer to dissolve the marriage.
I mean, come on…we’re college students.
Maybe Fallyn and Wolf wanted to tie themselves down this early in life, but that’s not what I imagined for myself.
And contrary to everything spewing out of my mouth, it’s not what I want now.
It’s just…
This chick can’t get away from me fast enough, and I’d be lying through my teeth if I didn’t admit that it chafes my ass. For the first time since meeting at Slap Shotz, it finally feels like I’ve wrestled the upper hand away from her.
And I’m nowhere near ready to relinquish it.
Any other girl on this campus would be jumping at the chance to be married to me. They would have blasted the news all over social media by now, announcing it to the world at large.
Britt hasn’t done that.
In fact, she doesn’t want our nuptials getting out.
Although…it could be because she doesn’t have any social media to speak of. Which is weird as hell for a girl her age. What does she do with all the selfies she takes if not post them to her socials?
My brows beetle at that thought.
Have I ever caught her taking a selfie?
I dredge my memories.
Nope. Not even one.
When the girls took photos in Vegas, she’d scooted out of most of them. If I hadn’t been watching so closely, I wouldn’t have noticed.
I blink back to the conversation when she mumbles, “I don’t know. I just assumed we’d be on the same page with this.”
“Well, you know what they say about assuming.” There’s a beat of awkward silence before I blurt, “You make an ass out of both you and me.”
Her brows furrow as she stares as if I’m a bug smeared across her windshield. Or some strange species she’s never encountered before.
It’s not good.
This convo is circling the drain as we speak.
Under normal circumstances, I’m smooth with both the lines and the ladies.
Unless her name happens to be Britt.
Then, I’m a total shitshow.
Needing to move on, I clear my throat as she picks up her drink and takes a sip. “Have you mentioned your newly minted relationship status to your family?”
Her eyes widen as she coughs and sputters before wiping her mouth. “Are you kidding me? Hell no.”
“Why not?”
She presses her lips into a tight line, refusing to respond.
When I raise a brow, she finally huffs out a breath. “They would be less than thrilled about the circumstances.”
“Do they live around here?” I shift. “We could road trip it and tell them together. I’d like to meet my new in-laws. Don’t worry. I’m great with parents. They love me.”
The color filling her cheeks gets leeched away. “As fun as that adventure sounds, it’s not possible. They’re in California.”
When she doesn’t offer up any more details, I prompt, “Is that where you grew up?”
“No.” Just when I think it’ll become necessary to interrogate her for a few more stingy pieces of intel, she mutters, “We moved there almost a decade ago.”
“Huh. I wasn’t aware of that little factoid.”
“There’s a reason for that. It’s because we don’t know one another. And that’s probably the way it should stay.”
I stroke my chin, digesting the tidbits I’ve been able to squeeze out of her. The more I learn, the more I want to unravel this girl and figure out what makes her tick.
“I don’t know, firecracker. Consider my curiosity piqued.”
Fear flickers across her pretty features. The emotion is there and gone before I can fully register it, leaving me to wonder if it was just a figment of my imagination. What I don’t miss is the way her hand shakes as she wraps her fingers around the cappuccino for a second time and lifts it to her lips.