Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79740 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79740 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
“You’d think,” Bellamy agreed, then shrugged. “Alas…”
“Elsie!” I nearly shrieked, catching sight of a somewhat familiar face who could save me from having to dance with Bellamy again.
I damn near overturned the table in my rush to get up and chase down the tall, beautiful blonde.
I made my way toward her as if she were my oldest friend in the world instead of a very distant acquaintance. Hell, I knew her husband Paine better than I knew her. He was the one to give me my first legal tattoo when I was eighteen, after all, a tiny little thing on the back of my neck that stayed hidden by my hair most of the time. A tattoo that I had to keep getting updated every year or two.
But that was a story for another time.
At Elsie’s bewildered look when I released her from an embrace, I explained, “I’m trying to escape someone very interested in dancing with me. And ruining my life,” I added. It was a bit dramatic for me, but I was feeling just a little overwhelmed by the whole night.
“You can stay with me as long as you’d like. But those life-ruiners, they can sometimes be fun.”
“Oh, I’ve had plenty of fun already. And now I have to suffer with that knowledge until the day I die,” I added, getting a laugh out of her. “So how are you? How are the kids?”
Her kids weren’t kids in the traditional sense of the word. They were probably close to my age.
“Willa is doing the corporate thing,” Elsie said, making it clear her daughter clearly took after her mother. “And Jackson is doing tattoos like his dad, but he’s trying to convince Paine to expand the business. Maybe even open another couple of shops.”
“So he’s got a bit of you in him as well,” I said, gaze following Bellamy as he got called over by another group of people.
Admittedly, he seemed to be a pretty in-demand sort of guy.
I imagined the only reason was the depth of his wallets.
What the hell else did he have going for him?
“You know, honey, for someone who claims to want to get away from him, you’re sure spending a lot of time moon-eyeing him.”
“I am not moon-eyeing him!” I shrieked.
“Sweetie, you so were. If you’re into him and he is into you, why the hide and seek?”
“Life-ruiner,” I repeated.
“I’ve met Bellamy. He’s…”
“An egotistical playboy without a single rational thought in that stupidly well-groomed head of his?” I supplied.
“Shawn, girl, you are so fucked,” Elsie said, beaming at me as she let out a laugh.
“What?” I asked, brows pinching as I lost sight of Bellamy.
“This amount of heat already?” she asked, shaking her head.
“It’s hate. Heated hatred,” I insisted.
“Mmhm, sure it is,” she said, nodding. “And hate-to-love is totally not a favorite trope of romance novels everywhere.”
“There is no love. There will never be any love,” I added, voice firmer.
“Okay, honey,” she said, patting my shoulder. “Okay,” she added.
A couple of minutes after that, she needed to head off to talk to some people as well. Leaving me alone and vulnerable.
But, on the plus side, Bellamy was nowhere to be found.
You had to be thankful for the little things.
I tried to tell myself that the strange surge of anxiety that crashed through my system was because I had no idea where he’d gone off to, and therefore had no way to know where he might pop up again.
But in the back of my head, other thoughts were trying to surface and getting squashed back down.
Like if he’d finally given up on me.
If he’d found another woman to take into the linen closet to fuck.
If he’d finally gotten the hint and was going to leave me alone for good.
All of those thoughts made my stomach twist almost painfully for reasons that I didn’t even begin to understand. So I went ahead and blamed it on the cursed asparagus.
Because that just made a hell of a lot more sense than being upset that Bellamy wasn’t going to stalk me and try to fuck me again.
God, what the hell was wrong with me?
Maybe I’d been telling the truth to my family after all.
Maybe the jet lag was still screwing with me.
It was the only thing that made sense.
If my body and mind were deprived of the sleep they needed, I could see how they would short circuit, crave Bellamy, and even obsess over him too.
Yeah.
That made perfect sense.
Deciding to believe that, even if I damn sure knew it wasn’t the case at all, I went and found my aunt and uncle, telling them I was still exhausted from the trip, and was going to head out early to get some sleep.
They’d insisted I take the next couple of days off now that I’d finished my designs for the rest of the year.