Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 72362 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 362(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72362 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 362(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
“Romance?” His thick brows go up in surprise. “Huh. Do you enjoy that?”
“Yes.”
He releases my hand and gives me the weakest smile in existence. “Do you think you’d ever consider writing something different, Riley?”
“Why would I do that, Angus?”
“No reason. I was just curious. So…” Which is when he looks past my shoulder and up. Like someone is standing behind me doing a little looming. The way Angus’s body language freezes up. “Hey, man.”
“Is something wrong with her writing romance?” asks Connor.
“No. Absolutely not.”
I clear my throat. “Are you sure about that? It’s just that it would be such a shame if you were basing your opinion of the genre on misogyny and inherited outdated opinions. I mean, I assume you haven’t read a cross section of the genre recently and know what you’re actually talking about, right?”
“Right. Good point.” Angus’s gaze jumps back and forth between me and Connor.
“Just walk away,” says Connor.
Angus nods and disappears into the crowd. An impressive feat for a dude that size.
“What are you doing here?” I ask him over my shoulder.
“Getting a drink and watching the Jenga.”
“No. What are you doing standing directly behind me while I attempt to speed date?”
He grunts. As if that’s an answer.
“Connor?”
“Well, he was speaking shit about your work and—”
“No.” I shake my head. “You were on the other side of the room. There’s no way you heard what he said to me and came over on a rescue mission. Try again.”
With a heavy sigh, he grips me gently by the arms and turns me around to face him. The bruises on his face have changed color. Black and blue have faded to green and yellow. Though the dark ones beneath his eyes from lack of sleep are new.
I thought the days apart had helped to put some distance in the situation. But nope, that was nonsense. I still want to stare at him for days. Write him bad poetry and dedicate my books to him. Sit on his deck and stare at the stars. Lie in his bed, wrapped up in his arms.
Shit.
This man is so unhealthy for me. Looking at him gives me an arrythmia. My skin starts to sweat and my throat hurts. Lucky for me, I live across the street. I can be out of here, away from him, and hidden back behind a locked door in under two minutes. One if I run and don’t mind risking death due to not looking both ways before crossing the road. And right now that actually seems like a very sensible idea.
“I thought we agreed not to date other people,” he says in a low and angry voice. “For credibility.”
“What?” My turn to scoff has come. And scoff I shall. “I never said that.”
“Then maybe we should make it a rule.”
“Not a chance.”
A muscle jumps on the side of his jaw as he stares down at me. He seems to be attempting to control me by the power of his pretty blue eyes. But no. Not happening.
Some guy beside us says, “Is this where they’re doing the speed dating? You’re Riley, right?”
We don’t even break eye contact. This has somehow become the staring competition of a lifetime. I say, “Sorry, I am busy.” And Connor says, “Get lost, Shane.”
Shane exits posthaste.
“Why did you send me food?” I ask.
“Because breakfast cereal, ice cream, and cheese isn’t a balanced diet, Blue.”
“We agreed you wouldn’t call me that.”
He steps closer, getting right down in my face. “Maybe I’ve changed my mind and decided to disagree.”
“Oh. It’s much too late for that. Why are you here?”
His mouth slams shut. It wouldn’t surprise me if he locked it and threw away the key. All of our work on communication. He has gone and thrown it away.
My blood is boiling. I honestly don’t think I have ever been this angry in my life. It’s the only excuse I have for shoving him. Just pushing my palms against his chest and yeah. Not that it moves him much. “Why are you here, Connor?”
He grunts.
“Answer me, you fucking caveman,” I yell at him.
And he shouts back, “He had no business holding your hand.”
The room has fallen silent around us. Not a sound can be heard. Even the music seems to have stopped. But whatever. This is between me and him.
I cock my head. “Why do you care who holds my hand?”
“Did you tell them you were leaving town? Seems like the kind of thing you should share.”
“Oh, I am not going anywhere.”
He pauses. “What?”
“You know you never even asked me? Just jumped to conclusions. But I am not your ex, and I am perfectly happy right where I am.”
“If she’s so happy, why is she shouting?” asks someone. Which is a solid question. Though they’re quickly shushed by the crowd.
Connor on the other hand just stands there in silence. Not a word is said. Something I don’t mind since I have yet to share all of my thoughts with him. My moment to monologue has come.