Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 106159 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106159 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
I’m as equally torn as I am relieved when she shakes her head. “He said she should be the last resort.” When I sigh, aware of how gospel Saka’s caution is, Taylor assumes I’m upset with her. “I’m fine paying your share of the rent. I’m happy to do it as long as needed. I just hated keeping this from you. We’re best friends. There should be no secrets between us.”
Now I feel guilty as hell. I haven’t been honest with her the entire time I’ve known her.
“Taylor, I need—” A knock on our front door interrupts me.
“Saka wouldn’t have forgotten his key,” Taylor grunts while rolling her eyes. I laugh when she adds, “He’s too anal for that.”
Some of the unease on her face fades when I confess, “But he’s great at groveling with food.” After leaping up from the couch, I walk backward to the door. “I told him red week hangs around longer every six months. I need carbs, and he’s stingy with his money when he thinks he’ll get no benefit from it.” My comment reminds me of her confession only moments ago. “I’ll work out what’s going on with my father. I promise.”
She nods, her faith undeserving but highly craved. “Until then, can we keep this chat between us?”
“Of course,” I reply, mindful I owe her more than my word.
We exchange silent thanks before I spin around and open the door. “I’m praying like hell you ordered cheesy crusts this time around.” I snap my mouth shut when the person on the other side of the door isn’t who I expected. It’s not Saka balancing pizza boxes on his hand. It is a courier driver.
“Ms. Lefevre?” When I jerk up my chin, the man with a creepy goatee nudges his head to a clipboard. “Sign on the dotted line, please.” When I do as instructed, my signature as fake as his endeavor to pretend he hasn’t noticed Taylor lounging on the couch in her workout clothes, he rips off the top sheet of the delivery docket, stuffs it under his arm, then hands me a box and my half of the docket. “Have a pleasant evening.”
“Thanks. You too.” I kick the door closed before spinning to face Taylor.
“Looks fancy.” She waggles her brows like our conversation was nowhere near as serious as it was before its forced intermission. “What’s inside?”
“Probably just my stuff. I left my purse on the floor of my date’s car last night. He said he’d have it couriered back to me.” It feels nice being honest, so I give it another whirl. “Last night was…” When words can’t express how incredible Matvei made me feel, I fan my cheeks.
“That good?” Taylor asks, her expression slowly shifting to awe.
“He is insanely jealous, and more anal than Saka about self-awareness and overprotectiveness, but it was better than good. It was amazing.”
She moseys out of the living room to join me in the foyer. “I’m glad you had fun, but since I’m hot and sweaty after that workout and cramping like a bitch, can you save the detailed minute-by-minute play until my vibrator can take care of the tingles? I might die if I’m left hanging for a second longer.”
Eager to keep our friendship two-sided, I ask with only the slightest gag, “Did Saka not hit the right buttons?”
She barges me with her hip before slowly trudging to her bedroom. “He was hitting every button I own. Then a tramp’s dress ruined the moment by announcing it had infiltrated enemy territory.” The words have only just left her mouth when she realizes she said too much. After turning to face me so fast her hair slaps her face, she begs, “Can we please rewind the past few seconds and sweep what I said under the rug? Saka will kill me if he finds out I told you.”
“You don’t need to worry about him killing you. He’ll be six feet under if what I think you said is true.” Her silence undoes months of friendship in less than a second. “Are my clothes bugged?”
This explains why Saka has been so lax on security the past few weeks. He doesn’t need to watch me for twenty-four hours a day if he has devices that can do the job for him.
“I, ah. I—”
“Tell me the truth, Taylor.”
Her chest deflates as she breathes out heavily before murmuring, “I don’t know if all of them are, but I walked in on him sewing buttons on your clothes last month.” The hits keep coming. “He could’ve faked an interest in dressmaking if he wasn’t checking the quality of the cameras hidden in the new buttons with an app on his tablet.”
My words seethe through my clenched jaw. “That ass!”
“My thoughts exactly.”
I glare at her to let her know she’s still on my shit list. She knew I was being stalked for weeks but said nothing.