Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 86741 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86741 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Every single guy was like this, even my own husband.
So that night I decided I was going to do something bad—something I knew would make Dylan want to leave the mansion. Because there was no way in hell he was going to have random women prancing around my house. Hell was going to have to freeze before I ever let that happen.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
I had a plan. No, I hadn’t thought it all the way through, but it didn’t matter. It would cause a rift, and a rift was what I needed right now.
I made my way up the driveway of the mansion, smiling as Miley followed me to the front door.
“I’m surprised you want me to move in,” she said as we made our way up the stairs inside.
“Don’t be silly. I talked to Roland and he said it didn’t make sense to keep paying for an apartment when you can just stay in one of the rooms here.”
“I mean, I thought it was stupid too, but it was your money, so . . .” She shrugged, dropping her bags in the middle of the floor once we were inside her designated room. “Damn.” She sighed, taking in every detail of the room. There wasn’t much in it yet, just a queen-sized bed in the middle of the room, a dresser with two nightstands to match. The room wasn’t even painted, and the bathroom in this room was probably the smallest, but to Miley it was everything, I was sure. “This is way better than the apartment.”
“Really?” I asked as she flopped down on the bed. “How so?”
“I don’t know. I guess it feels homier here.” She spread her arms on the bed, making angel wings like she was in the snow. “I get to see you every day, we can eat breakfast together. Tell each other stories. Girl, I’ve got hella stories for you.”
I smiled but felt a pang of guilt after she’d said that. Her naivety made me feel like a vampire, ready to suck all of that naivety dry. Truthfully, even if I hadn’t had my issues with Dylan, I wouldn’t have minded Miley staying with me for a little while, now that I saw she was serious about getting better.
At first, I thought it would cause issues having her around, but it had been months and she was doing great for herself. Maybe traveling to another state was all she needed—a fresh start. A new perspective on life.
But I hadn’t moved her in just to be sisterly. I’d moved her in to have her under the same roof as Dylan. If he wanted to have women flouncing around, he wouldn’t do it here. Miley damn sure wouldn’t have allowed it, and she’d aggravate him by being here, constantly able to watch him, see him, touch him. Maybe she wouldn’t annoy him at first, but she would eventually, because Miley aggravated everyone. She was just one of those people who could get under your skin for no reason. I loved her to death, but one did have to have a high tolerance and an immense amount of patience while dealing with her.
I hadn’t told Roland that Miley was moving in. I was still upset with him after the night he’d pushed me away like I was useless, and since he’d brought Dylan in without even giving me a heads-up, I figured it was okay for me to do the same. We had plenty of room, after all. It’s what he always said about Dylan. Dylan never took up too much space. Never ate food that wasn’t his. Never drank the last bit of coffee in the pot. He never did anything wrong according to Roland, but that was a fucking lie.
“You aren’t this happy to be around me,” I said to Miley as I sat on the edge of the bed.
“What do you mean?” she asked
“I mean . . . well, with Dylan here. You’re under the same roof as him.”
“Oh.” She grinned and practically sank into her green turtleneck. “Yeah. That is true, but I don’t know. I don’t think he’s as interested in me as I thought.”
“Why do you say that?”
“I don’t know. He stopped coming to see me so abruptly. I mean, he told me in advance that we were just going to sleep together and nothing more, but I think he found someone else to sleep with.” She shrugged, like the thought of it didn’t hurt, but I was sure it did. The smallest things always hurt her.
“Well, I think being here will give you the perfect opportunity to ask him what’s up, don’t you?”
She looked me in the eyes and when I saw that sadness seep away and the spark light her irises like stars, I felt a sense of accomplishment. I wanted Dylan to leave, and my plan would work.