Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
“You’re not still in love with him, are you?” The question catches me off guard—or more, the vulnerability in his tone does. He’s never seemed unsure about anything, so him sounding unsure about me still being in love with my ex is seriously surprising.
“Absolutely not,” I say with ease, then take hold of his face in my hands and lift up on my tiptoes. “Our relationship was all drama and angst, and he never chose me even when I begged him to. He wanted to be a rock star, wanted to be on tour hanging out with the band and groupies, partying, and living it up. That life was never for me. Even if I liked watching him perform because it was something he loved, I didn’t want to do that every night for the rest of my life. I didn’t want to be another woman who was screaming for him to keep going from below the stage. I wanted to be the quiet he came home to when the show was over.”
I shake my head. “Looking back, I don’t know that I was ever really in love with him. I think I was in love with the idea of being loved by him. In love with the idea of him choosing me, if that makes sense,” I finish, not noticing until then how tight his hands on my hips have gotten or how the look in his eyes has changed.
“After I fuck him up, I’ll send him a thank you card.”
“What?” I breathe, and his expression fills with warmth.
“If he had been that guy you needed, I don’t know that we’d be standing here right now, so after I’m done with him, I’ll send him a thank you card for fucking shit up with you.” He gives my waist a squeeze. “Because now all that is you is mine.”
I swallow, pretty sure that right now is the wrong damn time to be turned on, and force myself to focus. “You’re not really going to mess him up, are you?” I ask, and he grunts in response. Knowing that grunt, having heard it from my dad, uncles, and cousins, I decide to pull out the big guns. “Please don’t.” I soften my tone and eyes while running my fingers down his jaw. “I understand why you want to, and I get it even more because I wouldn’t mind kicking him in the balls right now. But at the end of the day, he does not factor into my life, into our life, and I don’t want him to think he does.”
“Something you’re going to have to learn, baby, is I take your protection seriously, and not only did he fuck up once, but he did it twice. And now he has a harsh lesson to learn. You do not fuck with my woman and get away with it.”
“Well, I hope you know that I do not have bail money to get you out of the slammer, since I spent almost all my rainy day cash when I was out shopping with your mom,” I say while hoping I can find ways to keep him busy so he doesn’t have the chance to mess Cohen up and end up in jail.
“I’m not going to need bail money, but even if I did, I’ve got it covered.” He grins, and my eyes narrow on his.
“I’m being serious.”
“I am too.” He leans down to brush his lips across mine, then pulls back and cups my cheek, smoothing his thumb across my bottom lip. “Enough talk about him. We’ve got shit to do today.” Damn but he’s right; we do have a lot of stuff to do today, most of it including driving around and searching out other locations for either a bar or a club, since he still isn’t one hundred percent sure he wants to purchase The Drop.
“Fine.” I let out a long breath. “I need to shower and get ready.”
“A shower sounds good.”
“I didn’t say you’re invited.”
“Does it look like I need an invitation?” he asks with a cocky smirk, and I roll my eyes. “Kiss me, baby, so I can get the dishes cleaned up.”
“You kiss me,” I sass, and he doesn’t hesitate to slide his hand that was on my hip across my back or wrap his hand that was around my neck under my chin as he bends me backward over his arm. The kiss—like always—is hot, but it’s more the emotions behind it that have my toes curling and heart pounding. I swear I can taste how he feels about me as his tongue slips between my lips. I kiss him back, digging my nails into his shoulder and sliding my hand into his thick hair, hoping he knows how deeply I’ve come to care about him.
In such a short time, he’s become important in a way that I wasn’t sure anyone would ever be. He’s accepted me for me, pushed when I’ve tried to pull away, and stood steady when I’ve felt like the tidal wave of emotions he’s brought up would send me under.