Total pages in book: 147
Estimated words: 142801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
“You’re not even interested in the place. Not really.” Fin shoots me a narrow-eyed glare. “But I bet you’re still using Eve to get it.”
“Ah, come on, Oliver,” Matt gripes. “The lass doesn’t deserve to be caught up in this.”
“Doesn’t she?” My tone is icy, the warmth in my chest subsiding.
“You know she doesn’t.”
“Then perhaps she shouldn’t have put herself at risk by almost marrying that prick.”
And there it is, back again. Cold hard clarity.
Chapter 23
EVIE
A Little Bird Told Us . . .
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451 comments
HideYoKids: I think that cheating dick is selling the bride’s belongings on BF Mkt Pl. Is that legal? Can he even do that?
FloozyLoosie: Bet it’s bcoz of the pic of her and the hotty.
SashayYourWay: Man was fiiiiine!
TrixieBits: She didn’t move on. Girl moved up!
HoppyGoLucky: What a scumbag! Girlies, bring veggies. Preferable heavy root varieties because WE RIDE AT DAWN!
Twerksneark: Is that a Moncler jacket on the top of that box? Asking for a friend.
Sumin.up.rosie: DIES! He’s put her wand on the top of that :O
Twerksneark: O_o No longer interested in the jacket.
TheHallouminati: Is that a wand in her box or . . .
PixiChick: She’s just pleased to see you!
Charlie09: That thing is MASSIVE!
SlitherIn: It’s the wand that chooses the wizard, don’t you know.
HufflePuff23: It’s the magic in the wand, Charlie.
Zara_A: Is that even legal? He can’t sell her stuff.
Jam.Jar: Oooh. I’d buy those Manolos!
Zara_A: @Jam.Jar have some respect.
Jam.Jar: A steal is a steal, babe.
Another day, another stupid A Little Bird gossip column.
Maybe I’m also stupid for reading it, I think as I set down my phone. My stomach flips as it immediately lights up with a text from Oliver. My hand hovers over it, though I ultimately resist, pushing it away as though I’m afraid of Oliver cooties. I’m not as afraid as I should be. In fact, I’m kind of into Oliver cooties, and that’s definitely definitely a bad thing.
I shouldn’t have fooled around with him after dinner with his friends that night. And I certainly shouldn’t have spent the night in his bed. It was a miscalculation—one minute, I was It’s oh-so comfy-cozy here. I’ll just doze for a little. And the next, I was stirring awake, wrapped in his arms. Bodies touching led to fingers stroking, which led to us fooling around. Again.
And then again in the shower. My God, the shower! I still find myself daydreaming about it, and it’s been two weeks!
Two long sexless weeks.
It’s little wonder I can’t stop thinking about the experience. In fact, that’s where my mind had wandered to right before I opened my phone to the Little Bird I’d happily strangle and Mitch’s latest online goading attempt. That scumbag wasn’t content trying to make me look as bad as him. Oh, no. He had to go and humiliate me too!
Well, he can tell the world I own a wand vibrator—I don’t care. Hell will freeze over before he can force me to see him. I am done being manipulated.
At least by him. But by Oliver?
I guess I’ll be done when I have my visa—my biometric card or whatever. This thing between us is strictly business, which is exactly why I can’t have his dick “accidentally” falling into me again.
“Urgh!” I fold my arms on the table and pitch forward. A softer surface to bang my head on. “Stupid. Stupid. Stupid!” I don’t know whether not having sex with him made things better or worse. If we’d done the deed, I might’ve gotten it out of my system, because all I can think of now is how powerful it felt, denying him. Taking from him. Making him shake with need. Not that I feel very powerful now because I’m hotter for him than ever. “I am such a sicko.”
I jolt straight, brushing my hair from my face. I’ve committed to this. I have no choice but to push through. The latest update on my visa application was a notification of a ten-week processing time. Ten weeks, when there are just eight weeks left before Oliver’s all-important auction date.
It’ll be fine, I tell myself. How hard can it be to pretend lust is love? By the time Oliver gets his house and his revenge, my visa will be well on its way. We’ll shake hands and part amicably. No need to hate fuck him out of my system.
Only I don’t hate him. I’m confused by him, by his motivations and the things he said.
“I want you—that much is real.”
“It didn’t feel like pretend.”
It would be so easy to be sucked into that. To be fooled again. But I won’t allow it. I need to remember how unmoved he’d been looking at the online photos of Fin and me that night. Especially when a stupid part of me had hoped for a reaction. A flickering of jealousy, maybe.