Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 61867 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 309(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61867 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 309(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
“That’s…really nice of you, Jameson, but I have to go.” I quickly get up from the bed and head out of the room and into the enormous boutique room Jameson made for me and find my sweatsuit I was wearing when I left the club. I’m slipping into it when Jameson enters the room behind me.
“You have to go? Iris, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I lie, putting on my best sweet-girl face. “I just realized I haven’t checked in on my mom in a while, and I need to see how she’s doing.”
“Come on, Iris. You think I don’t know when you’re lying to me? What’s the matter?”
Grabbing my things, I brush past Jameson and head downstairs. He follows after me as I pull up my phone and order an Uber. Thankfully, it looks like a driver can actually make it to the manor gate in less than five minutes, so this won’t turn into a big huge thing between the two of us.
“I just—I don’t really want to talk about it right now, okay?” I reply, tugging open the door. To be honest, I don’t even know what I would say to him if we were to talk about it. I’m not even sure why I’m upset. But I do know that I need to get out of here so I can collect myself.
“Is it something I said?” Jameson asks. “Was it the pregnancy comment?”
He reaches out and grabs me by the wrist, but I quickly pull away.
He doesn’t even try to hold me back, which I love. I love so much about him. I know he wants to hold me and keep me and force me to talk to him, but he knows me so well that he knows that won’t work with me. He knows that when I get like this, I just need my space, so he’s going to give it to me.
“I’m sorry, I just have to go,” I call back over my shoulder as I begin the walk down the drive. “I’ll talk to you later.”
“Okay,” he calls back. I can hear the regret and the concern in his voice, and part of me feels really bad about it. But I’m also on the verge of trembling as I walk away from the manor.
The last couple of days have been incredible, but Jameson has also been gone for three years. Three years and he’s ready to just come back and get me pregnant? He’s not even worried about that? What if something has changed with me since he’s been gone? What about our plans for the future?
So many things could go wrong. So many questions.
Or maybe I’m just freaking out over nothing. Maybe Eliza is right and I’ve turned into a manhater. But I was not ready for what just happened back there.
The Uber driver is pulling up just outside the gate when I get there. I let myself out the side door, which opens from the inside, and slide in the backseat. I’m not in the mood to chat, so I just look down at my phone and try to ignore the terrible club music that’s playing at a way too high volume as he pulls away from the house.
“Having a good night?” he asks. I shrug and make a neutral sound, doing my best to let him know I don’t feel like chatting. He doesn’t get the message. “Yeah, same here. Things could be going a lot better. Although it’s hard to imagine a girl with your looks having a bad night, know what I mean?”
Without moving my head, I look up and see him flashing me a super-pervy smile in the rearview mirror. I quickly look back down at my phone and hide my face behind a curtain of my hair.
“Not creepin’ or anything,” he says, in the tone of a creeper trying to disguise himself. Thankfully the ride isn’t very long back to my house, so I’m able to keep him at bay by sort of responding to his banter but not ever fully engaging. And when he’s pulling into my driveway, I’m already opening the door.
“Say, are you seeing anybody–?”
I slam it shut behind me and pace quickly up the walk to my front steps. I barge inside to find my mom on the couch, clearly drunk, with a blanket over her and a pint of cookie-dough ice cream in one hand. She looks up as I come in and frowns.
“Where the hell have you been?”
Normally I would apologize, but tonight I’m not in the mood. Dealing with Mom takes so much energy, and she never shows any appreciation for everything I do for her, any of the chores or upkeep I do around the house, or any of the money I bring home.
“I’ve been with Eliza,” I reply. I don’t even want to get into the whole Jameson thing with her. All I want to do is go to my room and be left alone so I can think. But somehow, as I’m headed past her, she manages to get up off the couch and step in front of me.