Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 65939 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65939 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
So it must be true. Here is yet another thing Kendall didn’t trust me with, though I guess in this case, it’s more understandable. She was probably worried that I’d be jealous, and she was right.
Just thinking about some assholes looking at—or sniffing—Kendall’s feet makes me want to smash their noses into their faces. And yes, I know this reaction is over the top. I mean, if she went to a beach or wore sandals, everyone would see her feet… right? Then again, maybe not. If I were there, they wouldn’t dare look at them. Certainly, no one should be sniffing anything—though if someone were to do any sniffing, that someone had better be me.
I leap to my feet.
Kendall and I need to have some words.
Walking fast, I return to my sister, but Kendall isn’t there. Nor are our parents.
“Kendall didn’t come back after that phone call,” Jordan says without my asking.
“I see.” I give her the crackers. “How are you feeling?”
“Much better. In fact, they promised to discharge me in a few minutes, so I told Mom and Dad they could head home.”
And they went? Figures. Though in their defense, Jordan looks a lot less swollen, and they know I’m still here.
“Did something happen?” Jordan asks. “You look upset.”
“Long story,” I say tightly. “I need to speak with Kendall.”
“Go find her then,” Jordan says. “Then come back and give me a full report.”
“You’re going to be okay alone?” I ask, my tone softening.
She waves her phone at me. “I’ve got something I need to take care of, anyway.”
“I’ll be right back.” I step away and look around, but I don’t see Kendall anywhere.
I head in the direction she went earlier, and then I spot her—and blink a few times because, weirdly, she’s talking to her brother.
What is he doing here?
Doesn’t he live in New York?
As I get closer, I hear Kendall ask him that exact question in a tense tone.
“Jordan and I work together,” he replies. “When I heard she was in trouble, I got here as soon as I could.”
What the fuck? Is he dating my sister?
“I thought we agreed: she’s off limits,” Kendall says angrily.
My thoughts exactly.
“And why is that?” Cameron demands. “Because her brother is your boyfriend?”
“No. I told you, he’s not my boyfriend. We’re just—”
She stops speaking, probably because she’s noticed Cameron’s eyes widening at my approach. She turns. “Ashton. I—”
“No,” I say evenly. “Please finish that sentence. We’re just what? Nothing of consequence? Merely fuck buddies? What were you going to say?”
Looking uncomfortable, Cameron says, “I’m going to check on your sister.”
I glare at him. If the fucker hurts her in any way, he’s dead meat.
Before I can voice that sentiment, Cameron hurries away, leaving me and Kendall in a staring contest.
“I know about Candy Berlin,” I say when I’m sure her brother is out of earshot.
She gapes at me. “How?”
“Is that all you care about?” I demand.
“No. I… just didn’t expect you to say that.”
“And I didn’t expect to hear you tell your brother that I mean nothing to you. After we’ve been together all these weeks—and after you learned that I wasn’t Ash. Which you should’ve realized long ago.”
“The Ash thing was clarified only a couple of hours ago,” she says defensively. “I didn’t even get the chance to—”
“I heard about the Candy Berlin thing two minutes ago, and that is how long it took me to know I still want to be with you. Except I apparently wasn’t with you. It was all my imagination.”
“Ashton… I—”
“Don’t,” I say coldly. “I’d like you to go. Please. I’ll call you a limo and make sure a ticket home is waiting for you at the airport.”
Turning on my heel, I leave.
Chapter 31
Kendall
I cry all the way home, trying to process everything that’s happened and failing miserably.
Once I’m safely ensconced in my apartment, I call Emma, but she doesn’t pick up, probably because it’s late.
I cry myself to sleep.
In the morning, a phone call wakes me up. At first, I think it’s Ashton and my heart leaps with hope, but it’s Emma.
“Hey,” I say, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.
“Hey,” Emma says. “I heard about you and Ashton.”
“You did?” I squeeze the phone tighter.
“Yesterday, on his way home, he called Marcus.”
The edges of my phone dig into my hand. “And what did he say?”
“I’m not supposed to say anything.” Emma sounds miserable. “Marcus wasn’t even supposed to tell me.”
“Oh.” A lump invades my throat. “I understand.”
“Are you crying?” Emma says on a gasp.
“No.” I wipe away the errant moisture under my eyes. When did it get there? “Why would I?”
“Listen… How about you tell me what happened from your point of view? Maybe I don’t need to tell you any secrets.”
So I do that, including, finally, fessing up to her about my secret business.
“I almost understand them looking at your feet,” Emma says. “But buying dirty socks? Used footwear?”