Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 113142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 566(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 566(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
Looking. Seeking. For one person.
And then I saw her.
Across the room.
Surrounded by the sorts of people she once claimed to dislike—fake, loud, brazen.
Seeing her felt like a hard punch to the gut. My stomach twisted, the acid burning its way up my throat as I observed her. She was still perfect. Small. Even in heels, she was tiny enough she would fit under my arm as though she was made to go there. Her vivid hair glowed under the light, twisted up in some sort of elaborate style on top of her head, not a strand out of place. Her gown—long, black, tight, and elegant—encased her petite frame. It wasn’t the sort of dress she would have chosen. She always liked flowing, loose clothing that “let her move.” She always liked to wear my clothes.
“You ever gonna give me back that shirt, Ally?” I grinned at her across the room. “I might want to wear it myself one day.”
“Nope,” she giggled, popping the last part of the word loudly. “I like it.”
I crossed the room, leaning down, my hands resting on the arms of the chair she was curled up in. The one I’d had made for her so she could be comfortable in this sparse space where I lived. I brought my face close to hers. “I like it too.” I ran my lips down the column of her neck, my teeth pulling on the neckline of the shirt teasingly. “I like it far better on the floor, though.”
Which was where it ended up a few seconds later.
We were never able to keep our hands off each other.
I blinked, bringing myself back to the present. My eyes focused on her, staring, following her every move as she mingled, talking to people, often smiling as she listened to whatever they were saying. It took everything in me not to cross the room and grab her. I curled one hand tight around the glass I was holding, while I twisted the other one in the strap of my camera, anger building as I watched on in silence.
Her smile was still her—shy, sweet. Her posture still spoke of uncertainty, as though she wasn’t entirely comfortable with the spectacle playing out around her. Maybe she hadn’t changed completely.
I narrowed my eyes, studying her. Something else was different—her usual poise was absent, and there was a slight limp to her gait. A twisted ankle, perhaps? Except, from the way she walked, it was as if the slight list wasn’t a temporary injury, but part of her now.
My gaze intensified, and I willed her to look my way.
To see me.
I stared, my eyes never wavering, and then it happened. Her wide, too-big-for-her-face eyes met mine. Deep, flat blue met angry, confused brown. She blinked and stared, frozen in place. I glared and fumed, trapped in a haze of memories at the way her eyes used to look at me.
Warm and caring. Filled with desire. Flashing with anger. Flooded with tears. Overflowing with love. Always so emotional. So easy to read. Constantly changing in their beautiful hue, reflecting her mood and emotion—I’d seen them brilliant blue when she was happy, a soft mossy green when tired or sad, and a deep slate gray on the rare occasion when she was angry. I’d never witnessed eyes like that—I’d captured them all on camera. I knew their shades by heart—I could always read her. But now, they were different, staring at me with an expression I didn’t recognize, a dullness I had never seen in them. They were always filled with life when she was with me.
Not confused and blank as they regarded me, and then she frowned and glanced away.
Dismissing me.
I tightened my fist on my glass, my hand shaking so hard, I was sure the glass would shatter at any moment, spraying scotch all over me and causing blood to drip down my hand.
The way my heart was dripping blood inside my chest at her indifference to seeing me after all this time.
“Adam?”
I turned to the shocked voice beside me. “What the hell are you doing here?” Emma demanded, narrowing her dark eyes. “How did you get in?”
I smirked at Ally’s best friend, taking a swallow of my scotch, letting the burn settle the tight muscles of my throat. “I came to wish the happy couple congratulations. Capture the moment for posterity.” I indicated the camera I had slung over my shoulder.
“You can’t be here. You have no right.”
“I have no right?” I sneered.
She stepped forward. “You chose to walk away. You can’t do this to her. Leave.”
I gaped at her.
I chose to walk away?
What the fuck was she talking about?
She grabbed my arm. “Please, Adam. If you ever had any feelings for her, leave. Leave now. I’m begging you.”
“I want to talk to her.”
“Why?” she hissed.