Total pages in book: 122
Estimated words: 117451 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 392(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117451 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 587(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 392(@300wpm)
“Here…”
I don’t know why, but I have this need to clean him up, make him feel cared for.
I do that, and he breathes hard the whole time. I can feel his body tense.
“Bet this goes the other way around,” I murmur, so soft I can barely hear my own words.
I’m looking down, not at his face, but I can hear the deep breath he takes, holding just a moment before slowly letting it out.
When I look up, his mouth is tucked up at one corner. It’s a sad smile. A not really even there smile. He tries again for me. I take what feels like a liberty and urge his head onto my shoulder. I cup his cheek, noticing the warmth of his skin.
I brush my lips over his forehead. “Hunter.” My lips make the sound without permission. Just to taste it.
My mind is racing, and as my pulse calms, I whisper, “Why do you call me Libby?”
He lifts his head, his eyes on mine. His gaze softens, like he’s remembering something nice. And then he gives me a small smile; this time, it’s a real one.“I used to know someone named Libby. She was…important…and when I met you, I think you reminded me of her.”
I flush with shame. So the name is not for me. Of course not. He’s dating a porn star, for crying out loud. Is he like this with everyone, I wonder? Sex on a stick, making women everywhere drop what they’re doing and give him hand jobs in club bathrooms?
I think of his back, unable to reconcile the grisly wounds with the look of kindness burning in his eyes right now. He must be some kind of sex fiend.
I draw my hands back into my lap, scooting away so I dislodge the hand that’s lightly gripping my hip. I’m staring at his handsome face while telling myself that this is it. This insanity with Hunter West is over now.
“Libby, what’s—” wrong?
How could I ever begin to explain?
I stagger to my feet and throw the sauna door open. I’m rushing through the bathroom before Hunter is even on his feet. I’m crying before I get into the hall. By the time I sprint into the parking lot, I know I have a lot to learn about a lot more than just sex—starting with how to shield my fragile heart.
HUNTER
I CAN’T GO after her. I can’t even move. I’m shaking. I can’t believe I told her that—the name Libby. I haven’t thought of the original Libby in years, just like I haven’t thought of what I talked about when I would meet her. But I had no problem telling Elizabeth DeVille.
I told her something secret, something as personal to me as flesh and blood—and she looked at me like I’d slapped her. Why did it make her so upset? Does she think Libby is a girlfriend?
‘Libby’ came into my mind the moment I saw Elizabeth trying to pop the hood of her mother’s old Porsche in the middle of the road, in the middle of the night.
She’d begun as a neon blip on my infrared security camera, but even then I could see her temper, her determination. As she watched me in my garage later that night, her perceptive eyes brought to mind the first Libby. I have a thing for names, so the few times I saw her again over the years, I would remember how she reminded me of the other Libby.
I don’t bother asking myself why I always end up doing crazy things with Libby DeVille. I already know I don’t have the answer. She just does it to me. Gets under my skin like a splinter.
As I leave the sauna, everything aches. But nothing more than the regret inside my chest.
Chapter 18
Elizabeth
“SCARLETT!”
“SCARLETT!”
“There she is!”
I’m standing in the parking lot by the side of the Joseph Building, having just declined a ride from—of all people—Michael Lockwood, the guy who Hunter bashed to pieces, when my posse catches up to me. I turn around, and before I can get a good view of anything, Juniper smashes into me, surprising me with a ferocious hug. “We were dreadfully worried!”
“I’m sorry, girl.” Loveless thumps one of my pigtails, and Bella says, “We’ve been looking for you for almost an hour.”
Juniper releases me, and I look down the row of concerned faces. “I’m really sorry. It’s my fault. I went to the bar and—”
“That’s when I saw Juan,” Loveless interrupts. “He was my client a few years ago and I hadn’t seen him since then, so I guess I got distracted. I’m so sorry.”
Loveless grabs my hand, and the girls start talking about Domino, Marie V.’s overzealous client, as we walk toward the Escalade. The other girls wave me inside first, so I end up in the back, sandwiched between Loveless and a wall.