Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 70444 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70444 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
When we arrived at where Rosie was standing, she put her hand out to touch me—but June’s hand was suddenly there as if she’d known what Rosie was going to do.
She’d moved her hand up to my chest, just under my nipple, and flattened her hand. When Rosie moved to place her hand on me, June’s hand blocked her.
And when Rosie tried to move her hand farther down, June growled and shoved Rosie. “Off. Mine.”
I would’ve laughed had my dick and my heart not been over the goddamn moon with her declaration.
“Goodnight, Rosie. Safe drive home.”
The light from the distant streetlamp illuminated her face just enough that I could see the anger there.
It was more than obvious that she was not happy with me—not even a little bit.
With that, June and I left, her still clinging to me.
“I need to tell Amanda that I’m leaving,” she whispered as I helped her into the passenger side seat of my truck.
I slammed it closed, then rounded the hood before finding the door and climbing inside.
I winced when the dome lamp blinded me, being reminded of my headache that never seemed to go away anymore.
June immediately picked up on it.
Which made my heart warm.
“Is it your head?”
Not, who was that woman? Not, you’re a fucking douche for doing that where anybody could come up and see us. Not, I hate you for making me have to pay two hundred dollars and then having the judge embarrass the shit out of me in front of about a hundred witnesses.
No.
All she cared about was me and my head.
“Come home with me.”
Before she could even open her mouth to answer, my phone rang.
Since we were in my truck when I answered, it automatically hooked up to the Bluetooth and Tyler Cree’s angry voice filled the space around us.
“I need you to come back to work.”
I looked over to June, and I could practically see her face fall.
“Sure.”
Chapter 15
When you gotta delete your post because you’re not the same person you were six minutes ago.
-Hostel PD FB page
June
I was late.
That had to be the reason why I was speeding. Had to be.
It wasn’t because I wanted to see the man again—the same man who hadn’t called since he’d dropped me off the night before.
Sure, he had to work today, but would it kill him to send out a text message?
No.
No, it wouldn’t. Not even a little bit.
I would know. I nearly sent him about a hundred different text messages today. I wanted to talk to him. I wanted to hear from him. I wanted to see him again. I wanted him.
Which had to explain my reasoning for doing what I knew I shouldn’t do.
But, mostly, I was pissed at him.
I’d read the post on Hostel Police Department’s page—the one that said ‘Don’t speed on Justice Road, or justice will be served.’
So I damn well knew the little shit had his phone.
That had to be the reason that I sped past where I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, there would be a cop.
And not just any cop.
Him.
He sat there at the end and beginning of every shift because it was notorious for speeders to do what I just did—blow through the cut through road to the main street that would take me and everyone else—where they needed to go without hitting any lights.
It drove the residents of Hostel nuts—the ones that lived on that road, anyway. Since I lived on that road, I could tell you, sometimes it was a harrowing experience to walk down the street. People sped through there all the time without a care in the world, like I’d just done.
Though I didn’t have kids or pets, so it was easier for me to not have as much of a problem with it because I wasn’t affected by it like they were. And I damn sure wasn’t going to do any walking or running on it. Which translated to the only thing I did do on this road was drive—and drive fast, at that.
I don’t know if subconsciously I knew that his little warning meant he’d be there, waiting for speeders. Or if I was just pissed, and I wanted him to know I was pissed.
Whatever the reason, I wanted to see him.
The reason why didn’t necessarily matter.
So when I blew around the corner, knowing there was a possibility that I’d see him, my heart was pounding. And when the lights flipped on in the rearview mirror, I gently pulled over to the side of the road and tried not to announce that the possibility of seeing him was making my heart palpitate.
I bit my lip as I put my truck into park and then tried not to look at him walking toward me. If we made any sort of eye contact at all, he’d see that I’d done this on purpose.