Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 66859 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66859 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Problem.
Hmmm.
“Look, how about we just see what happens, yeah? There is no point in freaking out about something that hasn’t happened yet. If this pill doesn’t work, we’ll have a discussion. Until then, we wait.”
He nods, sharply. “Want you to know, that I’d never make you do anything you don’t want to do. Just need you to remember that.”
My god.
Is it the tablet? Because I could cry.
I nod, swallowing the thick lump in my throat.
His phone rings, that all familiar ringtone, and I exhale.
Saved by the cell.
He stands to answer it, but I put a hand up. “You don’t have to leave every time she calls. It’s fine, I’ll go start dinner. I’m hungry, anyway.”
I walk into the kitchen, and he remains on the sofa, and he answers the phone. I can’t hear what she’s saying, which kind of sucks, but I do hear his replies and can’t help but listen a little more than I usually would.
“I’m protectin’ her at the moment, can’t leave.”
That hasn’t stopped him before.
“It’ll be too late by the time you get here.”
She wants to come here?
Oh, yes please.
I could make a good deal of fun out of that.
“Beck,” he murmurs. “Not a good idea.”
He exhales, and then puts the phone on his lap and looks over to me.
“Trouble in paradise?” I ask.
“She’s comin’ here.”
“Oh, that should be fun.”
He stands and walks over to where I’m chopping some vegetables for dinner.
“I know you hate me, Pop-Tart, but can you be nice to her. Please. Don’t need to deal with any more shit.”
I shrug. “If she’s nice to me, I have no reason to be anything but the same to her.”
But if she’s sassy ... Oh, girl, I can be sassy back.
“This is fucked,” Beckett mutters.
“I’m not going to be a dick intentionally, Beckett,” I point out.
“Not that, the whole fuckin’ thing with her.”
Wait. Is Beckett opening up to me?
Oh.
I am very careful with my response. He’s like a wild rabbit; he’ll flee the second I get too close, and I want to hear what he’s got to say about all of this.
“I can imagine it would be tricky,” I say casually, as if it’s no big deal.
“It’s more than fuckin’ tricky. It’s outright painful. Every fuckin’ time I try to pull away she drags me back in again.”
I look up at him. “You love her.”
“I don’t know what it is I’m doing if I’m honest. It’s somethin’ I know isn’t good for me, but it’s as if that’s what keeps me goin’ back.”
“Like a drug, really,” I say, nodding as if I understand. “Can be hard to break a habit like that.”
“She’s never goin’ to leave her husband; he gives her more than I ever could. She’d never fit into my lifestyle; she just likes the way I make her feel.”
And the way he fucks her, no doubt.
A bad boy on the side, but a bad boy she could never bring into her world.
Not if she comes from the kind of world I expect she does.
“It is an odd match, I won’t lie,” I admit. “You two don’t seem like you’re ... each other’s type.”
“We’re complete fuckin’ opposite.”
Tread carefully, Poppy. “Well, sometimes opposite is a good thing.”
“Yeah,” he mutters. “What you cookin’?”
Thank god for that change of subject.
“I’m attempting to make chicken and vegetable pot pies. I won’t lie, I’m not the best cook but I found a really good recipe. Are you hungry?”
“Yep.”
With that, he turns and walks off.
A man of very few words, but he gets to the point.
I think I like that about him.
No, I do like that about him.
That’s the problem.
I like him a little more than I should.
A FEW WORDS COME TO mind.
Uncomfortable.
Strange.
Weird.
Fucking awkward.
Becky hasn’t taken her perfectly shaped, lash-covered eyes off me since she arrived at the warehouse. She gave Beckett the kiss of all kisses, the mother of the babies, she kissed him until he forcefully removed her and gave me a look of apology. I stood, fork halfway to my mouth, bowl in hand, staring at them with an expression that was probably making it incredibly obvious how lame her their little show was.
Then, the princess wildebeest herself had the nerve to walk over and poke her hand at me, fingers all splayed out, like she is the fucking queen and needs me to kiss her expensive ring. I shoved a piece of broccoli into my mouth and loudly crunched down on it as I stared at her hand, and then, after chewing very unattractively, I spit little pieces of broccoli on her as I asked, “Is there something wrong with your hand?”
She stares at Beckett like she’s absolutely disgusted and has seen the most horrific animal at the zoo that she’s ever laid her perfect eyes on. His mouth twitches, which surprises me. I thought for sure he’d go crazy and bark at me with anger, telling me to pull my head in and be polite. It makes me feel a little something in my belly when he doesn’t, something that makes me more than a bit confused.