Total pages in book: 213
Estimated words: 201920 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1010(@200wpm)___ 808(@250wpm)___ 673(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 201920 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1010(@200wpm)___ 808(@250wpm)___ 673(@300wpm)
I tell myself it’s only out of instinct that I take a picture of her license plate as she drives off.
Well I try to, but I’m a poor liar.
When she’s gone from view, I step back out onto the concrete sidewalk, staring down the desolate street and letting the brisk night air cool my hot skin.
Addison is back.
The only question on my mind is what I’m going to do with her.
CHAPTER 3
Addison
I’ve hated Daniel for a lot of things. I’ve never really tallied them up before.
The silent drive back to this tiny apartment provided plenty of time to recount each and every moment that bastard has made me feel inadequate, embarrassed … undeserving.
I take in a deep, calming breath then toss the keys onto the small kitchenette table and head right for the wine.
This day was going so well.
The thought settles me as I open the fridge and quickly grab a half-full bottle of red blend. I use my teeth to pull out the cork and pour the wine into a bright yellow coffee mug with sunflowers engraved on it. It’s the closest thing to me and all my glasses are still packed in boxes.
It’ll do fine to hold the wine, I think as I take a small sip. And then a large one.
I don’t have a buzz yet, but in fifteen minutes I’m sure I will.
As I lick the sweet wine off my lips, I stare aimlessly at the glass bottle. I have to be careful not to fall into old patterns. It’s been a long time since I’ve needed wine to sleep. But I can see myself relying on that bad habit tonight. That’s what some memories will do to you.
I take a good, hard look at the bottle. It’s more than halfway empty as it is. I’ll be fine.
Leaning against the counter, I let the past flicker in front of me and trace the outline of the flowers on the mug.
Each memory is accompanied by another gulp of wine, each one tasting more and more bitter.
So many times Daniel’s left me feeling less than. And it’s my fault.
Even the first time was my fault.
The sudden memory of Tyler both warms my heart and makes my vision blur as my eyes gloss over with tears. I can’t think of him for long without feeling a deep pain in my chest.
He was my first. My first everything.
Just like his brother Daniel and just like the rest of the men in their family, Tyler Cross was stubborn. And he didn’t let up until I finally caved and said yes to being his girlfriend.
I told myself he was nice and that it felt good to be wanted. And my God, it did. When you’re an orphan, you learn rather quickly people don’t want you.
It’s a hard thing to unlearn.
And at sixteen years old and in my fourth foster home, I didn’t believe Tyler wanted anything more than a kiss, or to cop a feel. To get into my pants. Just like the previous foster dad wanted from me. He was a rotten bastard.
I run the tip of my finger along the edge of the mug, remembering how Tyler didn’t give up on making me feel wanted. I only stayed with the Brauns, my fourth foster home in three years, because of how Tyler made me feel.
I didn’t want to move to another school district.
I finally wanted to stay somewhere.
The Brauns would get their check and I would be a good kid, I’d be quiet. I’d put up with whatever it was I had to do in order for them not to send me back.
All because Tyler genuinely made me feel wanted. Even if it was obvious the Brauns, like the other foster parents, only wanted to get paid. Having to watch over a teenager with hormones and homework wasn’t on their wish list.
Looking back on it now though, I don’t much mind Jenny and Mitch Braun. They were okay people. Maybe if I hadn’t run away when everything happened, I’d have a relationship with them. Or a semblance of one.
They didn’t like Tyler though. They were probably the only people on the face of the earth who didn’t like that boy. I can’t blame them, since he did in fact want to get into my pants when they eventually met him.
I cover my mouth with my hand as I let out a small laugh at the memory.
He had to meet my guardians before I’d go anywhere near his house.
I have to give Tyler credit, he put up a good showing.
And then I had to face his family.
There was one big difference though. One massive separation between what he had to do and what I had to do in our little agreement.
Tyler had a real family.
That was so obvious to me. Actual relatives. Like I had once. It’s an odd feeling standing in a room with people who belong together. Especially when you don’t, but you want to. You desperately want to.