Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87526 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87526 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
I watch Flynn on the elevator as he reads the message, and I have to chuckle when he throws his head back on a laugh.
Me: And tell them congrats on their engagement.
Flynn snaps his head in the direction of the camera, but the door opens before I can send another text.
Deacon Black is a man of action—when he decides to actually take action. Two days ago he was pouting outside Anna’s apartment, last night he went to the gala I mentioned and swept her off her feet, and today they’re engaged. Not only engaged, but the wedding is in three short weeks according to her mother’s social media post half an hour ago.
With all of that taken care of, I turn my attention back to Whitney in the gym, smiling when I see her practically growl at a guy who tries to approach her. I don’t know much about interacting with women in person, but only a fool would think he had a shot with a woman who looks like she’s about to commit murder.
“Idiot,” I whisper, the smile never leaving my face.
She doesn’t stop at forty-five minutes like she normally does. She’s an hour and fifteen minutes in when my damn door swings open.
“Put your dick away!”
I blacken the screen, but hell, what’s the point in hiding anymore?
Anna chuckles, and I turn to give her a smile.
“What’s going on?” Deacon asks, and I’m hoping he’s distracted enough by his new fiancé that he didn’t see my screens flash.
“It’s not what it looks like!” Puff Daddy assures him.
“Who were you watching?”
“No one,” I lie, the instinct too strong to confess the truth.
“Who’s the girl with purple hair?” Anna asks, and I’ve never felt betrayal burn so deep.
“Nice, Anna,” I snap. “Thanks.”
Deacon gives me a look that seems more like a command so I press a few keys until the screens come back to life.
I know what he’s seeing. Whitney is on the treadmill in one shot. The mail area of our apartment complex is on another. Her front door, 913, is visible from how zoomed in the shot is.
“Wren.” His tone is all warning, and despite the happiness I know he’s feeling for the awesome turn of events in his life, I can sense his disappointment.
I could call him out right now and tell Anna how he’s been a creep himself, but I’m not one to gaslight.
“Uh oh!” the bird squawks. “Busted!”
“You still haven’t given that girl her stuff?”
“She’s pretty,” Anna says as she leans in a little closer to the monitor.
“Wren,” Deacon repeats.
“I can’t!” I snap. He has to know I can’t do that.
“What’s going on?” Anna asks, confusion clear on her face because she hasn’t been around the last month to witness my shameful behavior.
“You have to,” Deacon urges.
“I can’t just walk up to a girl and hand her a box of dicks!”
Anna laughs, which sets the damn bird off. Puff Daddy throws his head back and cackles like a fool. Tonight may be the night I follow through with the threats of cooking his ass for dinner. Where’s the damn loyalty?
“You can’t stalk her like a damn creep either!” He points to one of the video feeds behind me. “Is that her fucking apartment?”
“It’s not in her apartment,” I argue, needing to clarify that I’m not that big of a creep.
“You need to get this shit straightened out.”
“He’s in love!” I glare at Puff Daddy because I feel like I’m being chastised by my nana. She wouldn’t approve either.
“I mean it, Wren. Give that girl her stuff and stop being a creep.”
“So it’s okay when you do it? But no one else is allowed?”
Anna laughs, touching him on the chest, and somehow it seems to settle him some. Did he tell her what he’s been doing? What he’s been having all of us do each night? Surely, she’s creeped out by that.
“Stop living in your computer, and get out into the real world,” Deacon insists. “It’s making you weird.”
Unable to come up with a better argument, I turn around and begin shutting down the feeds I’ve been monitoring for the last month.
“Let’s let him grieve,” Deacon tells his woman as they leave my office. “We have a lot of time to make up for.”
He can’t imagine how right he is. It does feel like grieving, like I’m losing something. In actuality, it just means I may be working more from home so I can watch those feeds from there. Determined to get home and set up quickly, I make sure Puff Daddy has food and water. I even turn the wildlife channel on so he can watch, but I leave his ass in my office. I grab the offending box and cart it out of the damn office, refusing to acknowledge the chuckles behind me, accompanying my walk of shame to the elevator.