Total pages in book: 176
Estimated words: 164533 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 823(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164533 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 823(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
He was out of the car when he saw me coming, but unlike most Fridays when he’d simply open the door and usher me in, he paused, his eyes tracing over me.
“Hey, are you okay?” he asked, features drawn in concern.
Dammit. I obviously looked like I’d been crying. They were happy tears, but Rhys didn’t know that. His hand came up to cup my cheek, his thumb brushing away the sheen of moisture, and my breath caught, stomach fluttering at how intensely he regarded me. His jaw was tight, his brow furrowed in concern, gaze penetrating like he wished to extract the worries from my mind by sheer force of will. At last, I found my voice.
“I’m fine, honestly. It’s not what it looks like—”
“Ah, fuck,” he muttered low, and I glanced up, noticing his eyes were levelled somewhere over my shoulder. He let go of my cheek and stepped back. “We better get going,” he continued gruffly, and I stood there, confused for a second. Then, as I climbed into the car, I realised why he swore. Stephanie was standing by the entrance to the hotel, and she was staring in our direction. She’d seen Rhys tenderly cupping my face, and if her expression was anything to go by, she wasn’t very happy about it.
Ah, fuck, indeed.
25.
Rhys
Charli and I travelled in silence, the only sound was the radio playing softly in the background. I felt uneasy, replaying the look on Steph’s face when she saw us standing by my car. She was too shrewd not to notice how I’d been staring at Charli, like I was prepared to tear up the entire city until I found out who or what made her cry.
Steph wasn’t going to be happy about that look, considering how badly our conversation had gone the other week.
My gut sank remembering how her eyes had lit up when I’d arrived at her place. She’d obviously thought I was there to work things out; when, in reality, I’d come to do the opposite.
“Can I get you something to drink? I have some of those beers you like,” she’d offered as she’d led me into her living room.
“No. Thanks, though,” I’d said, taking a seat on the armchair while she’d lowered onto the sofa across from me.
“You look good,” Steph had said, her expression softening as her gaze ran over me.
“You, too,” I’d replied because it was true. My ex was always very well put together, even though I knew she was still reeling from our breakup.
She’d run a hand through her sleek hair. “Thanks. It’s so good to see you. It’s felt empty here without you on the weekends. I miss you staying over.”
Ah, Christ. As soon as she’d said that, I’d known the conversation was going to be rough. I’d also known by her sugary tone that she’d thought she was going to get me in her bed before our “talk” was through. I’d been with her long enough to recognise the signs, her private intentions. Also, her mentioning those sleepovers had irritated me because it had always been me coming to stay with her. Whenever I’d suggested we go to my place, she’d make up some excuse, and I’d known why.
Steph had hated my house for numerous reasons and refused to stay there. She’d said it freaked her out how old it was and that it was probably haunted. The parking situation. She didn’t like Bruce, the elderly widower who lived next door with a Jack Russell who was just a little too yappy. Had said the dog gave her headaches and that she disliked what she’d termed the “old man smell” coming from Bruce’s place when she’d pass by and the windows were open. And okay, his house wasn’t exactly fresh, but the man was pushing ninety. He didn’t have it in him anymore to keep his house spic and span, and I disliked how Steph had no empathy at all for his situation.
She only cared how it inconvenienced her.
“Listen,” I’d said, sitting forward and resting my elbows on my thighs as I’d levelled her with a sincere expression. “My reason for coming over was just to check on how you’ve been doing and to make sure you’re okay.”
“So, you don’t miss me, then?” she asked, ignoring what I’d said and fixating on how I hadn’t responded with an “I miss you, too.”
I’d exhaled heavily, glancing down at the floor before lifting my gaze. “Steph, that’s not why I’m here. I didn’t come over to reconcile. Like I said, I want to make sure you’re okay and that you aren’t putting any energy into thinking we might get back together because that’s not—”
“Oh, fuck off, Rhys,” she’d burst, standing and crossing her arms, tears suddenly filling her eyes as she’d scoffed, “You think I’m sitting around pining for you? Whatever. I’m moving on. You stole two years of my life, and I’m not wasting a single second more on you.”