Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 21888 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 109(@200wpm)___ 88(@250wpm)___ 73(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 21888 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 109(@200wpm)___ 88(@250wpm)___ 73(@300wpm)
And then I heard a car pull into the driveway. She’d called a car service, something I didn’t like, something I tried to help her with as well. I wanted to take her to work as often as I could, but she refused any help I offered. She needed a vehicle, but I knew she couldn’t afford it on her own. That was another thing I needed to help her with.
A few moments later, the front door opened and closed. I knew if I didn’t intercept her, she’d haul ass down the hallway and into the bedroom, and I wouldn’t see her the rest of the night.
“Lenora?” I called out loudly so I made sure she heard. A second later, she popped her head around the corner, looking at me.
“Hey,” she said softly.
I cleared my throat and gave her what was no doubt an awkward smile. “How was work?”
She stepped fully into the kitchen, and I could see on the white button-down shirt she wore there was a small coffee stain. Hell, I could smell the scent of vanilla beans and cinnamon on her. Her hair was a little messy, strands falling around her temples as it had gotten loose from her ponytail. Fuck, she was beautiful the way she looked. She was beautiful all the time.
“It was good,” she said genuinely and gave me a smile I knew was real, not forced, not uncomfortable.
I nodded and felt my stomach knot up, felt my muscles tighten as my nerves tried to get the better of me. “I—I thought maybe we could have that talk tonight.” I stuttered that first word and felt like a fucking moron. A heavy silence stretched between us, and I wondered if she was thinking of a way to get out of it, thinking of an excuse. Maybe she’d tell me she was too tired. I wouldn’t blame her. But I sure as hell hoped she didn’t.
Finally, she nodded. “Yeah, I think we should probably have that talk now.” She looked down at her shirt and started picking at it. “Let me just get changed, okay?” She glanced up at me and I nodded.
“I figure we can eat first. I ordered some pizza, got that peach beer you really like, even rented that cheesy comedy we watched years ago. You know, the one where the guy has no filter and blurts out anything he thinks?”
She chuckled softly, and I knew she’d been taken right back to that memory, the one where we’d been teenagers sitting on the couch, throwing popcorn at the screen.
And that’s what I was going to do tonight. And whether she slapped me, told me to fuck off, or hell, maybe in my wildest dreams forgave me, I was just going to throw everything in and hope for the best.
She headed into her room to change, and I got everything ready, grabbing the pizzas, the beer, and headed into the living room. Hell, I had everything set up for the movie, even popped some fucking popcorn and put extra butter on it like she liked.
I had everything ready to go about an hour ago, even though I didn’t know if she’d be up for the idea of hanging out with me. But I was thankful as fuck that she was and so damn excited to spend some time with her.
I didn’t know how the conversation would go, but surely it couldn’t be as awkward as it currently was between us.
At least I hoped it wasn’t. I hoped things would be repaired. I hoped we could be like we were… even if what I really desired was Lenora as mine.
Chapter Six
Lenora
I was thankful Beckham hadn’t wanted to talk right away. Instead, we ate pizza, drank beer, and watched the movie we’d seen far too many times over the years. It was nice, comforting, and it brought back so many wonderful memories.
But I knew we needed to talk about the real issue at hand. I knew we were going to have to bring up things that hurt, things that dug at the proverbial open wounds. But maybe it would be therapeutic, beneficial for everybody and everything. Maybe it would help heal us, patch the relationship.
I sure as hell hoped so.
The movie ended, and we sat there in silence for a few seconds. He was on one end of the couch, and I was on the other, an oversized throw blanket over my legs, which were tucked underneath my bottom. I had one elbow on the arm of the couch and rested my head on my palm. My heart started beating fast, because I knew what was next.
But instead of jumping into that right away, I started in on how my life had gone down the shitter, so to speak.
I was deflecting like hell.
“Long story short, my boss is a sexist, sexual harassment lawsuit walking on two legs, which is ironic, since he’s an attorney.” I swallowed the disgust I felt. “I was his glorified coffee getter, and when I refused to have sex with him, well, he found some bogus discrepancy and fired me.” I rested my head back on the couch and looked up at the ceiling. “Then my roommate told me she was moving in with her boyfriend and not renewing the lease on her place. So I was now homeless. And to make matters worse, my car finally ended up kicking the bucket, and it would have cost more to fix than it was worth.” I shrugged. “I didn’t have extra funds to repair it anyway.” I exhaled, because my story was so fucking depressing it almost didn’t even sound real.