Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 71832 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71832 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
“I’m not sure that’s the case here,” I say but Keely’s shaking her head.
“No, Ash, you need to be strong. Listen, why don’t you give me his number. Maybe I can—”
“Okay, there it is.” I slip away from her hug. “Thanks, Keels.”
She gives me a serious, appraising frown. “No jokes this time. What can I do for you?”
“Nothing,” I say, softening a bit. “It’s all good.”
“Jams and I can take you out.” She cranes her neck. “Jams! Ash wants to go out with us.”
“No, please, that’s okay, I really don’t—”
“Yes!” Jamila comes storming into the room. She approaches me with an intense stare, not smiling at all. “We are taking you out, no complaints. We’ll do shots, grind with skeevy pervs, return home at an ungodly hour, and live a little.”
“That’s not necessary,” I say, holding my hands up. “Seriously, it’s the opposite of necessary. It’s unnecessary. It’s borderline harmful.”
“You need this way more than you even realize.” Jamila jabs a finger at my face. “Your heart is broken. It’s shattered, you’re a mess, and your chakras are entirely out of alignment, it’s horrible.”
“My chakras? I don’t—”
“You’re falling apart, Ash, but we can help.”
“I don’t think I’m a mess—”
“You’re an absolute freaking wreck.” Jamila shakes her head, disgusted. “Barely holding it together. You’re so brave, but also so wounded.”
“I’m not that bad.”
“It’s terrible to look at. I can’t stand to see you this way, just absolutely crumbling to pieces—”
“Jams,” I say sharply. “Stop it.”
“Right, sorry, I just mean, I want to cheer you up. We’re going out after work tonight. No excuses.” She hugs me hard then gets back to work.
I level an annoyed glare on Bernie. “You could’ve at least waited a day before telling everyone.”
“Oh, right, like Keely wasn’t gonna notice you’re not wearing the ring and badger you with a million questions until you eventually exploded and told her yourself, which would’ve been way worse.” Bernie waves a glass at me. “I did you a favor.”
“Sure doesn’t feel that way,” I mumble, annoyed, but she’s probably right.
As much as I hate it, I can’t stop thinking about Carson.
And not just for the obvious reasons.
I should focus on the fact that he’s been manipulating me from afar for years.
Instead, I think of our time together. The way he kissed me, the way he touched me so lovingly, so gently, like I was the most important person in the world. He showered me with his attention, his overwhelming need like a waterfall crashing down over me, and I loved it.
I’ve never felt that special before in my life. Not with my other boyfriends, not with anyone.
With Carson, I was truly the center of the universe. He revolved around me, intensely aware of my needs and wants, always ready to fulfill any desire.
I was falling for him. I hate myself for it, and I wonder how much of that was him manipulating me, but I was falling hard. I wanted more of him, and not just the incredible sex—but more of his laugh, of his smirk, of his teasing.
I wanted to know him, truly know him.
Now I wonder if that was ever really possible.
The day passes, turns to night, and when Smoke closes, I’m attacked by Jamila and Keely, still obviously set on dragging me to some afterhours club. “Come on,” Keely says, taking my arm. “You’ll have fun.”
“Want me to come along?” Bernie asks.
“Yes,” I say. “Please.”
“Too bad.” She tosses me a spare key. “I won’t wait up.”
I groan as Jamila and Keely drag me away. It’s like being pulled into a pit of despair, except this pit is filled with loud music and cheap alcohol.
“Don’t look like you want to kill everyone!” Jamila shouts over the music, shoving a tequila shot into my hand. “Drink!”
We all slam them back. The pleasant bite glows into my stomach. “I’m not looking around like that,” I protest, leaning in so Jamila can hear me.
“You totally are. You’re doing it right now!”
“That’s because I do want to kill you.” I grin at her and she laughs.
“Come on, let’s dance.” Keely squares her shoulders, pointing toward the rough patch of wood that serves as a dance floor. A couple dozen people are swaying, moving, gyrating to the intense club music pounding through the speakers.
There’s no arguing at this point and after a little while, I begin to let go. Another tequila shot helps. I dance with Keely and Jamila, having fun despite myself, and I’m surprised when they team up to keep every single man away from us with a combination of dirty looks, scathing comments, and outright physical violence.
“I thought you two liked dancing with guys!” I shout at Keely.
“Yeah, sometimes, but you’re not there yet.” She hugs me as we move together. “I know it sucks. You’re gonna be okay.”
Is that real emotional support from Keely? I never would’ve believed it.