Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 87721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
My friend sighs when I don’t respond, but being the nosy dick that he is, it doesn’t deter him.
“I watched her on the plane ride back from the Maldives.” Another flex of my hands on the steering wheel. Another clench of my jealous jaw. “She watched you.”
“She was too busy playing into Dani’s hands for that,” I argue.
“She loves you, too.”
Damn it. If she only did, that would change everything.
“You’re letting her slip away. The longer you sit here instead of going to her and laying it all at her feet, the greater risk that she’s going to find someone else who’s man enough to speak his mind.” I resist the urge to pull my gun from my hip to shut him up. “She’s a fucking ten, man. Probably a fifteen for any man who has fuc—”
I snap my head in his direction. “Finish that sentence and I’ll tell your mother you died in a training accident.”
There isn’t a smile on his face. He isn’t trying to goad me, and that hits a little harder than if he was.
“You know she’s going to move on. One day while you’re sitting outside of this building, she’s going to start entertaining the idea of finding someone else. You have an opportunity. Don’t waste it.”
I mull over his words for a while. If anything, it gives me a little more time to watch the doors to make sure she doesn’t leave.
“So tomorrow, I’m supposed to just walk up to her and lay it all out?”
“No. She has plans tomorrow night.”
“So Sunday? Monday?”
“Why put off ‘til tomorrow what you can do today.”
“Thomas Jefferson? Who knew you were such a patriot?” I mutter.
Chapter 38
Anna
“Are you getting enough sleep?”
I give my mom a practiced smile, but like any good mother, she can see right through me.
“If work is too much, I can ask your dad to cut you some slack.”
If work were my only problem, I’d be just fine. It’s the insomnia I can’t seem to manage without a few drinks each night that I’m struggling with. Since I’ve cleared out all the alcohol from my condo as a precautionary measure to not become an alcoholic, I’m left restless each and every night.
“I stayed up too late watching TV last night,” I lie. Well, it’s only a partial lie. I did lounge on the couch for countless hours with the television on, but I couldn’t focus on the home renovation show that was on mute.
She frowns at me briefly before plastering another smile on her pretty face, knowing I’m not being completely honest, but this isn’t the time or the place for confrontation.
“Ah, there are the Westons. Try to have a good time, dear.” Mom pats my arm before gliding away to mingle.
Since it’s a social event and expected, I have a glass of champagne in my hand. When I lifted it from the server’s tray, I told myself it was only for show. Drinking hasn’t had the same appeal it had in years past, but I’m giving myself a pass tonight, praying I can leave at the height of my buzz and actually manage some sleep tonight.
I know why I’m restless, why I toss and turn even when actively trying to keep my head clear of where my brain constantly insists it should go. It’s exhausting, but even yoga and meditation can’t keep him from creeping inside of me. I bought a ton of craft stuff from a late-night infomercial, intent on doing something to take my mind off him, but it became clear very quickly that buying craft things and doing craft things are two totally different animals.
“I could say I’m surprised, but I’m not.”
I grind my teeth at the familiar voice, deciding to stand my ground rather than walking away.
“You never could resist the urge to mirror everything I do.” There’s laughter in Dani’s voice, but the insult speaks louder.
I cut my eyes to her when she stands by my side, Cosmo in hand. Her daring midthigh-length dress sparkles under the soft lighting, but it isn’t emerald green like she insisted it would be on the plane ride back from the Maldives two months ago. Nope, of course it isn’t. Her dress is white, just like the floor-length one I’m wearing.
“Mirror?” I scoff, lifting my drink to my lips, all the while contemplating if being a petty bitch right now would be best. I know what my mother would say, be the bigger person, but the way Dani is holding her mouth in that way that tells me she still thinks she’s better than me makes the decision for me.
See, classic Dani will stand here and chitchat with me, making rude comments camouflaged by her smile and tinkling tone, but after taking a step back and evaluating many of the conversations we’ve had in the past, I’ve come to realize, she’s always been a bitch. Before, I thought she saved her cattiness for everyone else, and since I was part of her innermost circle, she didn’t treat me that way. Let’s just say I’ve seen the light.