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)
Gaige tries to tie me up in conversation the minute the SUV is in park back at the BBS building, but I just flip him the bird and climb in my car, ignoring the hoots and hollers at my back as I walk away. The whistles seep into my soul and I’m humming along to a tune only I can hear when I climb off the elevator on my floor.
I don’t engage with Braden as I pass. Flynn assured me he’d call the guards off just as soon as Jones was booked into the jail. Whitney doesn’t greet me at the door on her knees with her mouth open and willing like I’d let myself imagine on the short drive back here.
I wasn’t much of a hero tonight, so I don’t really deserve a hero’s welcome, but I decide not to let the disappointment cloud my happiness. She’s safe, and that’s all that really matters. The finer details aren’t important at all. All I care about is working on building this amazing relationship with her.
Simon doesn’t come running with his tail crooked, so he must be passed out on my bed again. My smile doesn’t falter when I find the living room and the kitchen empty. If anything, it gets wider when I find the guest bedroom empty too. Anticipation is thrumming under my skin. If this woman is naked in my bed, I’m going to have to worry about her sore pussy later because there’s no way I’m going to be able to turn down her willingness.
My bed isn’t empty, but rather than a gorgeous naked purple-haired goddess, a lone box is all I find in the center.
My heart stops. It doesn’t skip one but many, many beats as I stand in the doorway with my eyes glued to the noxious box. It’s in no way different from any other delivery box, yet this box just dropped a bomb right in the middle of my life.
She’d asked for blankets, and in my distracted state as we were going over the final plans for tonight, I just mentioned they were in the closet. Of course, they were in my closet. Right where this fucking box was.
Fear and the evil side of adrenaline replaces the sexy anticipation I was feeling since Jones was taken into custody.
I don’t have to look at the shipping label on that fucking box to know my world just imploded, but I must be a glutton for punishment because I inch closer, eyes blinking rapidly in an attempt to make the impossible possible. I fail because right there where it’s always been is the evidence that I’ve had this fucking box for months without a mention of it to Whitney.
On slow, weighted-down legs, I make my way back to the guest bedroom, only noticing now that all of her things are gone. The clothes are no longer in the dresser, shampoo no longer along the side of the tub. Even Simon’s food and water bowls are gone. The litter box is missing, the bathroom pristine, making it seem like she was never here, like she was somehow a figment of my imagination. I know better, however, because if I breathe deep enough, I can still smell her on my skin.
Shame like I’ve never felt before sinks deep inside of me, but rather than fall to my knees and sob about the shitstorm I’ve caused, my legs move toward the front door of my apartment and then to the elevator. The FBI must move at lightning speed because Braden is no longer taking up space in the hallway, and for that I’m grateful. At least he doesn’t have to see my walk of shame to beg Whitney to forgive my misdeeds.
My hand stops on the panel because I’m making uninformed decisions right now which is something I never do. Heading back to my apartment, I fire up my computer, pulling the video feed from the front of my door and following her all the way back to her apartment. Timestamps tells me she was out of my place mere moments after I texted her to let her know that Jones was no longer a problem for her.
Tears mark her beautiful cheeks, and I want to reach out and wipe them away, apologize for being the cause of them, and swear on my own life that she’ll never cry because of me again if only she could forgive me.
I want to go to her, make her see that no matter how things started between us, we’re meant to be together. She’ll forgive me, right? I could see in her eyes last night how much she wanted to be exactly where she was, and that need only strengthened when I told her I wanted her here even after the coast was clear as far as Jones was concerned.