Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 67144 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67144 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
What?
“I was pissed that you answered the phone, but I could’ve forgiven you,” she says. “But now I know you think it was a giant mistake, so it’s complicated.”
“You can’t possibly think crossing that line was smart.”
She shrugs. “Why not?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Should I count the ways?”
“How high do you need to count?” She watches me, unflinching. “We’re both adults. We’re trapped in a house together. We’ve been attracted to each other for a long damn time, and if you think this isn’t going to come up when it’s already come up and we’ve been in this house like five hours—and I’ve slept three of them—then you’re a fool. And if you can’t handle it, then call Theo and trade places.”
Flames shoot out of the top of my head. “The fuck?”
“This has nothing to do with Theo. Not like that. And why do you care, anyway?”
I bite my tongue—afraid I’ll say something I’ll regret—even though the things I’d say are the truth.
She shrugs and goes back to her pasta. “Fine. We’ll pretend you didn’t just almost kiss me, and I didn’t want it.”
I get up from the table, Dahlia’s words ringing through my mind.
“I was going to say that the moment in the closet was the realest thing I’ve felt in a long time.”
That might be true for her. But that was the realest thing I’ve felt in my life.
“And it felt good, it was a relief, to finally pretend that’s not what we want to do every time we’re together.”
And every time we’re not.
It was a relief. Although we’re handcuffed by our identities, for the briefest second in the closet, with her in my arms, I felt more freedom than I ever have in my life. It was as if the world stopped spinning, and nothing mattered but the two of us at that moment. The past was irrelevant. Questions about the future were immaterial. It didn’t matter that we were co-workers, or that the risk of losing her or letting her down was unbearable. We just were.
I’ll regret that we can’t be—that I can’t have that, can’t have her—as long as I’m breathing.
Her fork scraping against the plate brings me back to the present. The weight of it all is unbearable.
I have to get out of this room. Away from her.
“I’m going to jump in the shower,” I say.
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
I storm up the steps, pissed at myself … and totally smitten with her.
I don’t think this is what Ford meant when he told me to relax on this trip. It’s yet another failure on my part.
Chapter Eleven
Dahlia
My chin rests on my knees.
The ocean sparkles, the waves gently lapping at the shore in the distance. From my perch tucked in the trees, the world is magical. Serene. Perfect.
If only that were true.
Troy didn’t return, even after I’d finished dinner. I expected him to come back—I hoped he would. Sitting alone in a strange yet beautiful home, knowing that someone wants to kill me, makes me yearn for company.
I cleaned up his mess, loaded the dishwasher, and put the leftovers in the fridge. Then I found my way to a screened-in room on the third floor with the best views I’ve ever seen.
“What a waste,” I whisper.
I can’t video chat Morgan and show her this view. I can’t even turn my phone on to snap a picture. My spirits sink as the weight of reality settles on my shoulders.
What will I do if this threat is real? What if it’s not Freddy being a dumbass? Where will I go? What will I do? I can’t sit here indefinitely because, let’s face it, a white knight isn’t coming.
He wouldn’t even have dinner with me tonight.
I snort at the joke even though it wasn’t funny.
“Hey.” Troy appears in the doorway behind me, his hair still damp from his shower. “I couldn’t find you.”
“And you call yourself a professional.”
He gives me a wobbly smile. “Want to go down to the beach?”
“I don’t know. Are you going?”
“Well, you’re not going alone.”
I twist in my seat. “Since we just established that you’re a shit bodyguard, would it really matter if I went alone?”
His smile fades. “I hope you’re kidding.”
“I think we’ve also already established that we don’t always get what we hope for, haven’t we?”
“Okay. You’re pissed.”
“No, Troy, I’m not pissed. I’m tired. I’m confused. I’m trying to have a good attitude about this whole nightmare, but the one person in the entire world who I can talk to just left me sitting by myself at dinner.” I consider my words. “I guess I’m a little testy.”
He runs a hand down his face and sighs. “I’m sorry. I should’ve stayed with you.”
I start to razz him more, but the wariness in his eyes when he looks at me keeps me from it. Besides, I really don’t want to bicker with him, whether I’m half joking or not.