Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 100680 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100680 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Say no.
“Sure,” she grumbled.
Great. That backbone growth was going so well.
Thank God today was Friday and she could spend the entire weekend doing nothing.
Which was pretty much what she did every weekend.
Of course, she’d spent half the week avoiding Gretchen, which had made her feel terrible. But she really didn’t want to go out to some club this weekend. That wasn’t her scene.
But you love dancing.
Yeah, by herself, where no one else could see her. Then yeah, she’d bust some moves. But in a nightclub with people watching?
Nope. Not happening.
However, first, she actually had to get home. Her bus had broken down about ten blocks back. And instead of waiting for a replacement bus, what had she decided to do?
Yep, she’d decided to walk home.
With a sky that was darkening by the minute. There was a definite feel of a storm in the air.
But she was going to make it before it rained. She would make it. Tightening her hold on the bag of groceries she was carrying, Aston sped up.
You can do it. You can do it.
A crack of thunder made her jump and she nearly lost her hold on the bag.
No!
No, that was not a spot of rain. She was imagining it.
The wind whipped through her, making her shiver.
She had this.
More rain.
Shoot.
She really didn’t have this. Those first few spits soon became a downpour, and her teeth chattered as she battled the elements to get home.
The paper bag of groceries in her hand was getting saturated.
Why had she gone to the shop by work instead of the one closer to home?
Oh yeah, right. Because the last time she’d stopped at that store, one of her neighbors had cornered her to ask her if she could feed her cat while she was away.
Which normally wouldn’t be an issue, except that this particular cat hated Aston. Every time she entered the apartment, the cat laid in wait, pouncing on her and biting her ankles.
That cat was pure evil.
She didn’t mind helping out. It was just that . . . was anyone ever going to do the same for her?
Sometimes, she wondered . . .
You just need to learn how to say no to people.
Yeah, but then she’d feel like a terrible person.
She’d promised herself that she was going to be better. Someone who did good things for others.
But why did it feel like the universe kept crapping on her all the time?
She cleared her throat, wincing. Damn it. She was not getting a sore throat.
She. Was. Not.
Six blocks out. She could do this.
Then it happened.
The bag started giving way. She grabbed the bottom, but it was too wet and weakened.
It went to pieces and she stared in horror as her groceries exploded across the sidewalk.
That was it.
It was too much. Aston could feel the tears forming.
She didn’t cry.
She would not cry. Crying never solved anything. It had never done anything but draw attention to her. The wrong sort.
So she would not do it.
But God . . . she wished she could. She wished she could just sit on the sidewalk and cry. A few people stared at her as they hurried past, trying to get out of the storm.
She didn’t blame them for not stopping. No one wanted to be out in this weather.
After gathering up what she could find and putting as much into her handbag as it could hold, she was soaked, shivering, and miserable.
And of course . . . of course that was when he showed up.
Because why not?
The car horn was her first warning, although she didn’t look over. She had a carton of milk precariously balanced on top of three microwave meals and two packets of muesli bars. The only thing holding it in place was her chin and a prayer. And since no one had ever listened to her prayers, she just knew she wasn’t going to make it.
So nope, she didn’t look. She didn’t think that beep was aimed at her anyway.
Crap. The rain was coming down hard. Aston thought about sheltering, but at this stage, she wasn’t really going to save herself from getting any wetter.
Another blast of a horn. Then a voice.
“Rainbow! Come here.”
This time she turned to look at him. There he was, driving slowly along the road beside her, his passenger seat window down as he peered out at her.
“No!”
“Rainbow, you’re soaking wet.”
“Yep.”
“Get into my car.”
“If you offer me candy right now, I will scream.”
“Hate to tell you, babe, but you’re already screaming.”
“Don’t call me babe. And you need to move along, you’re blocking traffic.” Someone was driving up behind him.
“Get in the car, Aston.” This time, his voice was firmer.
It sent a strange shiver down her spine. One that had nothing to do with the storm raging around her and the wet clothes clinging to her.
She should not like that firm tone of voice. She should want to fight against it. She’d been around controlling men for most of her life and they’d never once looked out for her. Never taken care of her.