Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 87950 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87950 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Groaning while picking up my cell, I started tapping out a message. I re-wrote it four times and then just stared at it for a few minutes, periodically swiping across the screen after it automatically locked. It quickly became apparent that the deeper I dug for the courage to hit send, the faster nerves would fill the void.
Quit being such a fucking pussy.
I quickly pressed the screen before my mental pep talk had time to wear off.
Me: Enough of this shit. Where the fuck r u?
I felt breathless, my heart thumping in my throat, as I watched the progress bar travel across the top of the message, like I’d not taken in any oxygen for hours. Impatience gnawed at my stomach as I wondered if he’d even bother to reply, or if I’d have to literally trawl the fucking streets to find him.
Alex: Beach
Vague much?
Me: Which beach?
Once he’d replied, I idly wondered what he was doing hanging out by a pier, but dismissed it, car keys already in hand.
Me: Don’t move. On my way
I opted for the Lambo. Being black, it was the least conspicuous of my collection. It was impossible to predict what would happen between Alex and I tonight, but regardless it was something I didn’t want documenting in the press. Butterflies bred in my stomach, multiplying by the thousand the closer I got to the beach. It was an alien feeling to me, I didn’t unnerve easily, and I felt physically sick by the time I put the car in park.
Donning my beanie hat and aviator sunglasses, I set off for the five-minute walk to the pier. The disguise would never fool a professional paparazzi but it was often enough to deter the public. People generally needed to be one hundred percent certain a celebrity was who they thought they were before approaching them, fearing embarrassment at being mistaken I assumed.
Dusk had settled, the immediate sky illuminated by the bright lights of the pier. I stepped onto the sand, cursing myself for not wearing more beach-appropriate footwear. Thankfully most of the buzz appeared to be happening on the pier and I spotted Alex straight away by the water’s edge, wearing a white vest and black jeans rolled up to his knees, his feet bare and allowing the soft waves to caress his feet.
Tentatively, my pulse thudding, I crept up behind him, the warm sand cushioning my footsteps. “Where the fuck have you been, Alex?”
“I needed some time to think,” he said, refusing to turn around.
“Yeah. Must’ve been so difficult having a guy coming on to you.” I was being an ass but I was angry with him. Alex was my ‘go to’ guy, and fuck after everything I’d been dealing with – losing my mom, developing a business I didn’t have a fucking clue what to do with, falling for a fucking dude – I needed to be able to fucking go to him.
“How’ve you been?” he asked, ignoring my sarcasm.
“Awesome. Fantastic. Top of the fucking world. How do you think I’ve been?”
“Matt I’m-”
“No, Alex!” I cut him off, frustration simmering in my veins. “Why the fuck are you pissed at me? What have I done so wrong? You can’t even look at me dammit!”
I heard an all-too-familiar click just as Alex’s body began to turn. My eyes followed the sound and I spotted two photographers snapping shots of us in the distance. I huffed, my fists clenching by my sides. “Let’s get out of here,” I said. “Come home with me?”
Alex shook his head. “I’m staying at a hotel not far from here. We can talk there.”
Eager to leave, I didn’t pause to ask why he was staying at a hotel when he only lived thirty minutes away. Instead, I bowed my head, waited for him to pull his tennis shoes back on and then followed his brisk pace up the beach. I tugged his arm, pulling him in the direction of my car when we reached hard land. He told me his hotel was just a minute’s walk but I wanted to drive around for a while until I’d lost sight of the press closing in on us.
Not one word was exchanged while I drove. Every so often I would risk a glance in Alex’s direction as I tried to decipher the expression on his face. He looked sad as he stared apathetically out of the window. It made my chest feel weird. Achy. A month ago I would’ve emptied a bag of potato chips over his head or squirted him in the face with a shaken can of soda to cheer him up. Now, I just…hurt.
What happened to us?
I didn’t need to drive far before I felt it safe to make a sharp U-turn and ask Alex where to head, breaking the painful silence. There was a small parking lot attached to the back of the hotel and I reversed into a spot, letting Alex get out first so I could take a deep, steadying breath.