Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 91434 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91434 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
“Hey, Autumn,” he says, and I can hear Autumn gasp as I ignore him beside me. Which is really fucking hard when all I want to do is turn and look at him. I want to see if he looks the same. I want to see if you can see the small golden specks in his right eye if he’s looking into the light. I want to see if, in one look, he can calm all my fears. But I’m not taking what I want. I’m doing what I need to do, and that is ignoring the fuck out of him. “Charlie.” He looks right past me, or at least I think he does because I’m staring straight ahead. “Can I get a shot of the new blend?”
“Brock,” she replies to him as she walks to the end of the bar, grabs a glass, and fills it with the same liquid that is in my glass. He doesn’t say a word to anyone as he takes his glass and brings it to his lips, downing it all. My body feels like my skin is going to crawl off my bones. My heart is soaring through my chest, and I’m pretty sure if they stopped the music, you would be able to hear it beating quickly. My breathing is coming in short bursts as I try not to have a full-blown panic attack in front of him. I close my eyes as I hear him put the glass back down and then his heat moves away from me as he gets off the stool, and then tucks it back in as if he was never there. He puts money on the bar before turning and walking out.
I close my eyes, the scent of him lingering in the air. “Are you okay?” Autumn asks softly, and I open my eyes, trying to play it off. “Drink that.” She motions with her chin to my glass, as my hand brings it to my lips, and I take a deep pull. I hiss at the burn when it goes down my throat. “That was intense,” she declares, her eyes about to bulge out of her head.
“That was something,” I state, my heart beating back in a normal way. “It was something, all right.” I look at Charlie. “I take it you two aren’t as close as you were?”
“You can say that,” he responds, his jaw tight. “He’s not close to anyone. Stays mainly to himself.” The statement shocks me even more because Brock had friends everywhere he went. He was always friends with someone, and that was because he had different friend groups and would be active in each of them.
“That makes no sense.” I finally give in to his statement.
“A lot has happened over the years,” Charlie notes. “People change. Some for the better, some for the worse.”
I nod, picking up my glass again and putting it to my lips. “Some we just don’t even care about,” I reply right before I finish the whiskey in my glass, ignoring all the questions now screaming at me. “Some we just need to walk away from and never look back.”
Chapter Seven
BROCK
I walk out of the bar; my whole body feels like it’s being lit on fire. The back of my neck feels like you’ve stuck a million needles in it and have drained all of the blood out. I walk toward the shop, forcing my feet to go one in front of the other instead of turning around and going back into the bar.
When I walked out of the shop ten minutes ago, I was on my way to the truck when I decided to go and get a quick drink. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine I would find her sitting on a stool next to Charlie. I ignored her like she didn’t even exist. Like she wasn’t sitting two feet away, and I could smell her perfume wafting through the air. My cock woke up as if he’s been in hibernation for the winter, while my heart feels like it started working again after being stuck on pause. I hate that she has this effect on me. I hate that I still let her get to me. In the past eight years, I haven’t allowed myself to admit how much I missed her because I knew if I did, it would be so overwhelming that I would be buried in the feeling, and I had Saige to think about. It wasn’t just me anymore. I had to be strong for my daughter. But now I admit how much I fucking miss her. The ache is so sharp it’s like a knife slicing into my heart and slowly being pulled out.
Slamming the truck door behind me harder than I should, the anger from letting her get to me pours over. I pull out, my eyes going to the road in front of me until the end of the street. Instead of turning right and going home, I make a left twice and then park my truck off to the side before getting out.