Total pages in book: 204
Estimated words: 193115 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 966(@200wpm)___ 772(@250wpm)___ 644(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 193115 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 966(@200wpm)___ 772(@250wpm)___ 644(@300wpm)
I carry her into a quiet side street as she smashes her fists into my lower back, screaming her objection. Lowering her to her feet, I move in, crowding her, making it impossible for her to escape. But she refuses to look me in the eye. I know why. And it only spurs me on. “Ava, look at me.”
She tries to move past me, forcing me to physically stop her.
“Goddamn it, Ava.”
She starts grappling with my hands, trying to pry my hold away. “Go away, please.”
Go away? I refuse and curse, breathing in and calling on some calm, searching for some guidance. “Ava.”
She tries again to escape, and I become more desperate, forcing her back against the wall. What am I doing? For fuck’s sake, Ward!
I release her, and her eyes drop like stones to her feet. “Ava, look at me,” I grate. She covers her ears and slides down the wall, crouching. Making herself small. “Ava, why are you doing this?” I ask, taking her small wrists and trying to pull her hands away. “I don’t want to do this here.”
“Then don’t.” She fights with my hold. “Please, just let me walk away.”
I sink to the ground with her. “Never,” I murmur. I’ve tried. It nearly killed me, and seeing her like this now, tears pouring, knowing what I know, seeing what I’ve seen, I’m sure she’s been in hell too. She was drinking to forget, and I’m all too familiar with that tactic.
“Why are you doing this to me?” she asks on a sob, and my heart squeezes. I surrender one of her wrists in favor of her jaw, forcing her to look at me.
“Doing what?” Trying to win her back? Trying to make her see? Trying to show her how deeply under my skin she is?
Because I’ve fallen in fucking love with you!
She swipes a hand angrily over the dampness of her cheeks. “You persistently pursued me, bombarded me with calls and texts, fucked me into oblivion, and then stormed off for four days.” She inhales sharply, searching for air, and I shrink on the inside. “I don’t even know why!”
God, baby, you don’t want to know why.
“Now you turn up, trampling all over my night.”
“Watch your mouth,” I whisper, swallowing the tennis ball-sized lump in my throat. How can I possibly begin to explain? I’m gripped by guilt. “You asked for space,” I murmur feebly.
“But you weren’t prepared to give it to me,” she yells, her voice rising. “What changed so suddenly?”
Everything.
Just remembering that moment on the street—the bruises on her arms, the fact she canceled our meeting, fobbed me off—brings back a barrage of stress. How easily she can go from all in, to not in. And, God help me, she’s like that without the knowledge of who she’s dealing with.
I would give anything in this moment to change things. I’d give anything to be rid of this crippling guilt and save her the hurt I’m going to cause. She cocks her head, waiting for me to answer, and I scowl at myself, unable to give her one. But I can show her, if only she’ll let me.
She stands, leaving me crouched before her, and my hands take on a mind of their own, sliding onto the backs of her bare legs. She stills in a second. It’s no wonder. Sparks are flying. Touch her. Remind her. It’s all I have. Our crazy chemistry. My devotion.
“Let me go, Jesse,” she begs, soft but firm, and I gaze up at her.
“No.”
“You seemed to manage just fine on Tuesday.”
I flinch, rising, making sure I don’t break our contact. “I was mad.” Mad with you, mad with me, mad with everything.
She swallows, every inch of her tense. “You’re still mad.”
“I just found your ex-boyfriend dribbling all over you.”
“He wasn’t dribbling,” she argues, and it’s all I can do not to laugh in her face, the rage creeping back up on me. “And how do you know who he is?”
“Because I strangled it out of him,” I bark, blinking back the red. Control it, Ward! “You won’t see him again, Ava.” That’s it. Make demands of her, you stupid fuck. That’ll get you everywhere.
“Did you know I would be here?”
I remain quiet. It’s a moot point, anyway. I’m here, and it’s a fucking good job I was.
“You knew I would be here, didn’t you?”
“Sam.”
“Sam?”
“He rang Kate.” Because I forced him to.
I’m done with the pointless whys and wherefores of how I came to be here. I’m here, and even though I can’t confess my crimes, I want to—need to—hold her. Kiss her. Feel her peace. “I’m going to kiss you now,” I whisper, my eyes on her lips, desperate to be there again. Desperate to remind her. Desperate for so much more than just her mouth on mine. “You’re lucky,” I go on, unable to stop myself, knowing I’m stooping to unfair lows. But it’s the only way. My only option in this moment. “Because if I had you anywhere else, you would be getting a reminder . . . right . . . about . . . now.” I close the space between us. “I like your dress.” It’s too short, too tight, too revealing, too Manor-ish, but God, she looks amazing in it.