Total pages in book: 149
Estimated words: 141255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 706(@200wpm)___ 565(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 706(@200wpm)___ 565(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
She opened her mouth in shock and then she slumped.
I waited.
Her face went red.
“Forget it.” I knew she fucked to survive and it’d had probably twisted into want out of necessity. I was dealing with an internal struggle here and it was making me be an insensitive dick to her.
I felt like I was falling for this, falling for the idea of a girl who worshipped me, wanted me, loved to fuck the way I wanted, wanted a houseful of kids, would lay on my stomach contentedly while watching sports.
I didn’t wanna let myself get attached in case I was missing something important, like a ploy or plot, like another one of Pop’s games. He could certainly be playing me from the grave given the fact he’d put these wheels in motion before he died.
Besides, she could get over this hero worship shit and what if what was left was nothing but pain for me? I became someone I hated after Debbie fucked me over and if I let myself fall in love again and got fucked over again what would I become then?
“Got shit to do today. You need anything before I go?” I downed the rest of my coffee and then headed toward the bedroom, avoiding her face, which I knew was showing hurt.
“No,” she said softly as I passed her.
I changed into a suit and headed to my den to send a few emails and get some stuff in motion. When I came out, she was cleaning the kitchen. She looked gorgeous, wearing a pair of black yoga pants and royal blue racerback tank. She had her hair tied up in a messy knot and she was barefoot. My eyes landed on the collar on her throat. I had to resist the urge to take her by it and haul her back to the bedroom or to the kitchen floor, or wherever. Everything that collar stood for was wrong. But the fact that she was wearing it meant she was mine. Not only to her but it looked like it was starting to mean that to me, too. She fucking loved that thing. I loved that she loved that thing. But I was twisted up over the guilt I felt because of it.
I approached her and she hesitated, not meeting my eyes. She was picking up on my mood, evidently.
“I’ll be back later.” I kissed her forehead. She leaned into my lips and then tipped her mouth up, wanting my lips on hers. I hesitated and then gave her a soft lip touch and let out a long sigh. We stared into one another’s eyes for a minute. Then I backed away, shaking my head. She visibly deflated as I did, her eyes downcast. I left the apartment and it left an emptiness in my chest to walk away from her. But I did it anyway.
That afternoon I worked on some shit to do with the construction arm of the business, including a meeting with a few of the foreman who weren’t happy to be called in on a Sunday, but too fucking bad, and at 2:00 my cell made a noise alerting me to a text from Tess asking me if I was coming to the house for Sunday dinner and if I was bringing my “new girlfriend” or not. It would be just the girls and the kids as Ed had to work, covering for his backup chef who usually worked Sundays. I didn’t know if I could handle dinner with them and the third degree about her. Obviously the ‘new girlfriend’ remark was Tess baiting me to see if I’d agree or correct her, stating, “she’s not my girlfriend”. I’d be the only male outta diapers in the place if I did go, so I told her I had to work and couldn’t make it.
I wished I had my brother here, accessible, so I could run some work shit by him and so I could talk over this Felicia shit. I felt guilty for interrupting him in his new life. I’d told him to let me handle things and now I was feeling like I was in over my head. Fuck. I felt dirty even thinking of her as Felicia. But when I thought of her as Angel I thought of her as being MY Angel and that felt dangerous to me because of what it represented. Me, vulnerable.
Tommy was accessible by phone or computer, but it wasn’t the same. I wanted to sit down and have a drink with my brother. What I probably wanted most was for him to clap me on the back and tell me Carpe Diem with the girl. She was mine. Seize her. He’d done it and he hadn’t regretted it.
When we were having a drink together the night before he got married, he told me that the guilt was there at times but that his need for Tia was always stronger than the guilt. He told me he gave her the option to leave once and she refused to take it and pushed him to prove he wouldn’t ever let her go. He said he knew that he would never want anyone else, ever. At the time it’d hit me hard, made me want what they had. And now it was definitely in my brain. Would this girl pick me if she had a true choice? If she wasn’t fucking broken? It was too soon. Way too soon for me to start feeling this attached to her. I was just attached to the idea of her, that she was as close to perfect as I could expect to get. Being broken notwithstanding. But she didn’t always seem broken. I’d seen glimpses of fire in her eyes, and thought maybe I was catching glimpses of who she used to be.