Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 56257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
“Happy birthday,” I tell her ironically.
She folds her arms, staring at the road, her chest rising and falling passionately. “I think you’re making it about that because you don’t want to face the truth,” she says. “This isn’t about my age. It isn’t about the experience. Anyway, what’s wrong if you’ve got a little more? You can guide me, and maybe, in some areas, I can help you, too. What’s wrong with that? But no, no.”
My hand is clenched so tightly on the steering wheel as I fight the urge to reach over to touch and comfort her, but I know that will be the end of any resolve.
“This is about Brad,” she says. “The pain of hurting him is so much, you’d rather make it about something else.”
I bite down. It’s like she’s just jabbed me right in the brain, a part I’ve never looked at before. “Are you a therapist now?”
“Don’t get mean,” she snaps. “It’s true. I can see it. I can read you, Rust.”
I swallow, my chest going tight, hammering hard, remembering all the times Brad grinned up at me, all the moments the world felt at peace and orderly, not the chaos it usually was with Mom and Dad.
“Let’s take Brad out of it. Imagine we met somewhere else, and we shared that stormy night together. Imagine after I told you I was pregnant. Would you say I was too young and immature if Brad didn’t exist?”
“No,” I growl right away, then pull the car over to the side of the road, gliding into darkness.
Leaning over, I grab her hips and turn her body. She gasps as I bring my lips to hers, kissing her passionately, letting her feel all the hunger she’s ignited in me. “If it wasn’t for Brad,” I tell her, “I’d propose to you right here.”
She clutches onto my neck with her nails, wide-eyed, cute as fuck, as she gazes up at me. “Don’t say things you don’t mean.”
“I would,” I growl. “You’re the mother of my child. I would do right by you.”
She tilts her head, so damn sassy. “I thought I was too young, though?”
I slowly stroke my hand up her thigh. These pants are thinner than her jeans, letting me feel her voluptuous thighs. My balls ache as I try to hold back the desire. I squeeze down, captivated by her trembling, thick body.
“Honestly? It’s good you’re young. That means we’ll be able to have plenty of kids together.”
She shoves me in the chest, laughing at the same time like she can’t decide her reaction. “Seriously. Don’t say stuff—”
I cut her off with a kiss, sliding my hand higher up her leg, moving it toward her sex. She grabs my wrist, breaks off the kiss, and looks around. We’re in complete darkness, parked in the shadow of a large warehouse-type building, but that doesn’t mean somebody might not happen to walk by here.
“You said you would do right by me,” she whispers.
I sigh darkly and lean back.
“Why did you ask me to meet tonight?”
Running a hand through my hair, I try to remember what it’s like to be cold, not to care, to be able to easily distance myself from my feelings, if there ever were any there, to begin with.
“Because I need to ask you a favor. It’s going to be tough for both of us.”
“Okay…”
“We need to bury this until after the fight. The only thing I can afford to think about is the fight. It’s the championship. That means more money. That means, when our baby arrives, their life—their future, college, whatever they choose—will be much easier.”
“But what about Brad?” she whispers, holding my hand.
“I don’t know,” I snap. “I can’t think about that. Every second I spend distracted is a second Cain is getting better than me. This is the best move for the family.”
“But if we don’t sort the Brad problem, there won’t be a family,” she sighs. “Listen to me. The Brad problem.”
“I know it’s not ideal,” I tell her, “but this is what I need from you, my woman. This is the sacrifice I need. Think of it as doing this for our baby.”
“So you are happy about the baby?” she asks.
“You know I am. I think that’s the first time I’ve cheered in my life.”
She laughs adorably, smoothing her hands on my shoulders and pulling me against her. I wrap my arms around her and hold her close, kissing the top of her head.
“Chrissy said I needed to be sure you wanted to be together.”
“You told Chrissy?” I ask.
“I thought you’d be mad.”
I sigh. “Well, Marquis knows. He guessed. Then I told him.”
She nods, not seeming surprised or angry. “It’s difficult to keep everything locked inside, right?”
“I hate dishonesty,” I tell her. “Always have. Well, maybe not hate, but the world never seems in order when I’m holding onto a lie. My life has been so simple. Train, eat, sleep, fight, train…”