Series: Torn and Bound Duet Series by K. Webster
Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 94135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 377(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
I trot down the hall until I make it to her door. It’s locked, so I start beating on it.
“Mia! Let me in! I want to talk to you!” I bellow. “Mia!”
No answer.
I’ll just go grab my key from next door and let myself in. I turn on my heel, rushing to my apartment. After letting myself in, I hunt for the key in the kitchen drawer, but feel a presence behind me, making me pause.
“Why are you still here?” I snap, refusing to look at Brayden.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting a fucking key. You can go now.”
He walks up to me and pushes me away from the drawer. His hip knocks it closed before he leans against it. “You can’t barge in over there.”
“The fuck I can’t!”
“She locked her door for a reason,” Brayden says in a calm voice that gets on my last nerve. “Give her some space.”
“Move.”
“I can’t let you do this.”
“This is not your fucking problem to worry about!” I yell, shoving at his immovable form. “Go the fuck away!”
His jaw clenches, but he makes no move to leave. “Are you done throwing a tantrum?”
“Seriously, asshole, get the fuck out of my apartment.”
He shakes his head. “Sorry, man. Not until you cool off.”
He’s serious.
Douchebag Brayden is going to play the goddamn hero.
With. My. Fucking. Girl.
“You think I’d hurt her?” My fury threatens to explode into a thousand pieces. “Because if you’re insinuating that—”
“I’m not insinuating shit,” he snarls, his dark eyes narrowing, “but I know Mia. This isn’t the way to deal with it. Making demands and being a total prick. Just calm the fuck down before you ruin it beyond repair.”
His words cut deep. I’ve fucked up. I don’t want to make it worse.
“How are you so calm right now?” I demand. “Things with you and Drew are fucked too.”
He flinches and it makes me feel like a dick.
“Whatever,” I grumble, digging around a cabinet until I find a bottle of tequila. I unscrew the lid and take a long, burning pull of the liquid.
I’m so sorry, Mia.
I wish I could say the words to make her understand. That I love her and need her, but… there’s this craving that pulls me away from her all the same. It’s unfair that I’m wired the wrong way. I just want to hold her and keep her.
I take a few more swigs, feeling all kinds of sorry for myself, until I realize Brayden has approached. It pisses me off that my hairs stand on end and my dick fucking reacts. My heart is screaming at me to go plead my case to Mia, but my body isn’t completely on board with my sudden epiphany with my sexuality. It knows a fine-looking man and is reacting accordingly.
“I can’t lose her,” I admit, my voice cracking with emotion.
His brows are furled together, but his eyes have softened. It’s in this moment—right in this second—that I see why Mia was so enamored with him. There are sides of him he guards. Right now, he’s not guarding shit. The antagonistic side of me wants to poke at this softness. See how deep I can go. Explore it. My therapist calls that destructive behavior. I call it curiosity.
“You won’t,” he assures me in a gritty voice that does unspeakable things to me, taking the bottle from my hands to drink some. “It’s Mia. She’s sweet and caring. But she’s going to need some time.”
Fuck, I know he’s right.
I know Mia.
We both do.
I steal the bottle back and make my way into the living room. Brayden follows me and makes himself at fucking home on the couch next to me.
“What are you doing with her anyway?” he asks, angling himself to face me.
Question of the fucking year.
What am I doing with her?
Trying like hell—and fucking failing—to keep her.
“None of your business.”
“It is because it involves me,” he reminds me. “Just out with it.”
I scrub my palm down over my face and frown. “I want to be with her. I do.”
“But…”
“Maybe there isn’t a but,” I snap.
He thumps me on the arm hard, making my skin sting. “Don’t be a dick.”
“Says the dick who just thumped me.” Scowling, I rub at the spot that’ll now be bruised.
“Tell me the but, Ashton.”
I let out a heavy sigh of frustration. “But I still kissed your dumb ass. That’s the problem.”
“Mia deserves more than someone whose heart isn’t fully in,” he mutters. “Trust me. I already came to that decision tonight.”
“But my heart is in,” I argue. “I love her.”
His eyes dart back and forth between mine like he’s trying to pry inside my brain. I know how I feel about Mia. I’m just confused about the other shit.
“You know this is messed up, right?” I pass him the bottle. “I hate you and yet here you are fucking consoling me over this. It’s your fault for that kiss.”