Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 61905 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61905 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Well, okay then.
Rising to my feet, I pull the big dress back on and zip it up before I walk out the door with a huff.
Joey is nowhere to be seen.
“Miss.” My eyes find the guy Joey was talking to. “Or should I say Mrs?” he asks.
“Adora,” I remind him and offer him my hand. He looks at it but doesn’t touch it, so I let it drop to my side and wipe it on my dress.
“Joey left you this.” He hands me a key and heads back to the bar.
“What’s it for?”
The man stops and glances over his shoulder. “It looks like a house key,” he replies simply, then walks off.
I’m meant to move in with him.
Live with him.
Does that start tonight?
He said as much, right?
I don’t know the rules. And, frankly, I don’t even want to be here.
How could he just leave me after that? Clearly, he enjoyed the show I put on for him, I saw the evidence in his trousers.
But then he simply left? Why?
I grab my purse from the coat check and pull out my phone.
I message him. I need to know why he walked out like that.
* * *
Where are you?
* * *
I wait, but it isn’t until I’m in the Uber that I see the dots indicating he’s writing back to me.
And now I’m pissed.
So mad.
I gave up something good for him. I felt good with Becca, and it’s been an extremely long time since someone has made me feel that happy. Maybe it was stupid of me to end things with Becca.
Dammit! I should have just run away with her.
* * *
Busy.
* * *
How dare you just leave me there on the bed. I know you enjoyed it.
* * *
I add a few angry face emojis and throw my phone into my bag. When the Uber pulls up to my place, I get out and hear the phone ringing. I ignore it, not even caring who it could be, and head inside.
* * *
It wasn’t me you were thinking about when you touched yourself.
* * *
I read his message and guilt slams into me. He’s right.
It wasn’t him I thought about.
SEVENTEEN
JOEY
I wore pink socks, but do you think she even noticed? No.
The funny part is that she acts like I wanted to marry her, that it was my choice. I didn’t want to fucking marry her. I’d rather never fucking marry a single soul in my fucking life than to have married her.
I like women—women to fuck, women to kiss.
Beyond that, why the fuck do I need a woman when I can do everything else my fucking self. She gets on my last nerve, and she clearly doesn’t want to be around me. And it wasn’t me she was thinking about when she held her hands to her pussy.
Does she even like men?
She wants her, and I’m just in the way.
If I could change our situation, I would in a heartbeat. I find her attractive, fuckable. There is no fucking point in lying about that. But why would I choose to be with someone who doesn’t want to be with me? I can have my choice of women, and she isn’t even someone I would pick willingly, normally. That’s the most fucked-up part about this whole situation, the woman isn’t even my type. And yet, when she dropped her dress and lay on that bed, I looked through the one-way mirror and wanted her.
I wanted my name to leave those fucking lips as she got off, but when I walked into that room it wasn’t my name she screamed. That’s what made me turn and walk the fuck out of there. She had called out hers.
“What are you doing here?” I don’t turn around and don’t even fucking bother answering. What’s the point? “Joey.” I put the drink to my lips and drain the last of the bottle before smashing it as hard as I can. The glass is all over my hands, and it’s all over the fucking floor. I stand and turn around to face my brother. He’s still dressed in the same outfit from my… fucking… wedding. I want to laugh at how ironic it is, and I’m pretty sure a small chuckle does slip from my lips.
“Do you ever think how fucking ironic it is that you avoided this fucking bullshit of arranged marriages, and I’m the one who’s stuck in one? It’s always the fucking way, isn’t it?”
Keir doesn’t say a word at first, he simply looks at me. His silence is usually not a good sign, but right now, I don’t give two shits. I’m the one who has to live in the situation while he gets to go to bed every fucking night with the woman he chose, a woman who wants him, not to a motherfucking whore who fucked someone else the night we saw each other again for the first time.