Total pages in book: 244
Estimated words: 236705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1184(@200wpm)___ 947(@250wpm)___ 789(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 236705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1184(@200wpm)___ 947(@250wpm)___ 789(@300wpm)
Jude doesn’t pull punches. He hits hard, square in the jaw, and I’m reeling. “I told you why I did that, and you did the same thing.”
“Hardly to the same degree. Plus, the next day, we made an agreement. No bullshit. And what did you do? You fucking bullshitted me. I told you about my meetings. I told you about this project. I told you about Laird, and you pretended you understood. You gave me that whole comparison is the thief of joy shit.” He shakes his head in pained disbelief, more hurt than angry, and I hate that he feels this way.
“That was all true.” The sun keeps rising, casting bright rays through the open deck. The warmth feels all wrong. A hurricane should hit the beach right now. “I didn’t come here to do anything but see you.”
He’s unmoved. “Your one-way ticket? Right, sure. Oh, and didn’t you tell William you were here for business?”
I groan, scrubbing a hand over my beard. “Jude, I didn’t know if you wanted me to say anything about us to William.”
“Us? What does us even mean to you—except when it’s convenient.” He snorts bitterly, not hearing a word I’m saying. “Everything you say is so fucking convenient you could have scripted it.” Jude turns that spotlight on me only it’s cold now, a search light rather than a warm stage light. “It all adds up to the fact that you used me.”
I hate the look on his face. The hurt in his eyes. The anger in his voice.
I edge toward him like he’s a wounded animal who’ll bite if I touch him wrong. “I didn’t use you. I would never use you. I wanted to tell you last night. I wanted to share this with you and get your opinion.”
He brings a hand to his heart. “That’s so sweet. But hey, why not get my opinion on, oh, say, Sunday night, when you courted Webflix at my play?”
Does he not get it? “Oh, that would have been classy. Hey, Jude, congrats on your amazing performance, and oh, by the way, I met a Webflix exec during intermission, and isn’t that cool?” I stop to take a breath. “I didn’t want to steal the limelight from you.”
“Well, guess what? You did anyway, TJ.” His shoulders relax, and his expression softens and I feel a glimmer of hope that we can fix this horrible misunderstanding. “But if you’d been honest with me from the start, this wouldn’t matter. You could have told me.”
“I wanted to celebrate you. You deserved it; you worked hard for your show,” I say, imploring him to see that.
His softer voice prevails again. “You had Sunday night to tell me. Monday. Tuesday. This wasn’t about last night. This is about you keeping secrets.” But then his anger builds a new head of steam. “You always keep all your stuff to yourself. You hold everything inside . . . until it suits you.”
“I was protecting you,” I explode. Because what the fuck?
“From what?” Jude matches my intensity. “Protecting my poor little ego because I can’t handle you being more successful than I am?”
If the shoe fits—
But I bite my tongue.
“Is that it?” he pushes.
I point at him. “Yes, this is ridiculous.”
“You want to know what’s ridiculous?” he demands. “Me opening up to you. Me trusting you. And you taking every bit of information and using it for yourself.” He jerks his gaze away, swallowing whatever emotions have a hold on him. “I’m such an idiot. Arlo did this to me. He got my agent, fucked him, and then . . .”
He breaks off and waves the phone at me, and he’s one step shy of an accusation I will never forgive him for.
My jaw ticks. I hold up a hand. “Think real hard before you say the next thing.”
Jude purses his lips like he’s holding something in. Good. He fucking better.
“And then after that, my career just—” He can’t seem to finish, and I know he’s talking about those years when he didn’t work. For the second time, I hope so hard that he simmers down, that he sees I would never do this to him. Maybe, just maybe I’m getting through. But then, he breathes out hard, his eyes darkening. “I’m going to ask one more time. Did you use me?”
I’ve had enough.
I’m not the bad guy and I won’t let him treat me like one. “I already told you what happened. You know I wouldn’t betray you.”
He scoffs. “Do I? I’m wondering if I ever knew you at all. And do you even know me? Maybe I’m not your dream guy. Maybe I’m not the swooniest man you’ve ever known. Maybe you’re not as far gone as you think.”
My brain goes eerily quiet. I freeze for terrible, stretched-out seconds as the world turns deathly silent too. I stare at Jude like he’s a math problem.