Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 79509 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79509 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
“Has she officially left yet?”
“Not sure. I’ll find out tomorrow.”
I was disappointed he was going back to work, but it was surprising he’d even taken the day off. “I really want to punch her in the face…but I won’t.”
He turned back to me.
“I should just let it go…” There was nothing I could do about it now. And she was leaving the research team, so there would be no problems down the road. Deacon would rather reject her and go to his room to jerk off to me than accept her offer. That was enough revenge for me. “I’m sorry for getting so upset about it.”
“I think you have every right to be upset. I know I would be.”
Well, I didn’t have any admirers who were obsessed with me and trying to kiss me. “You don’t have to worry about that happening.”
His fingers moved into my hair again. “We’re okay?” he whispered.
I nodded. “Always.”
“Good.” He leaned closer to me, his hand cupping the back of my neck like he was about to kiss me. “Because I really want to make love to you…”
By the time a week had passed, life had returned exactly to how it’d been before.
It didn’t even seem like he’d been gone.
We fell into our old routine, where Deacon took Derek to school and Patricia picked him up. We took turns making dinner, and we spent our weeknights at home, the three of us finding activities to do together. On the weekends, we would take Derek to the zoo, the skating rink in Rockefeller Center, and anything else that came to mind.
My life was perfect.
I got my first check with my new salary, and it gave me the comfort I needed, something to fall back on if everything blew up in my face like I feared it might. Deacon never mentioned me moving out and getting my own place, and he seemed even more devoted to me after we’d had that week apart.
I should be happy right now, but I was miserable.
Fucking miserable.
I sat at my desk and texted Tucker. Hey, I need to talk to you…and I need to keep this from Deacon.
Are you okay?
No. Not at all. Yeah. I just really need someone to talk to. I was able to keep my secret without thinking about it too much because it didn’t quite feel real. But then my second period never happened, my skirts were starting to get tight on my waist, and it all became extremely real.
Alright. I’m off at 3. Can we meet then?
Yeah, that’s perfect.
The ice cream parlor?
Sometimes I forgot that we’d dated, that we’d had a favorite place. Once Deacon and I got together, I forgot about every guy before him like it’d never happened. Yeah. I’ll see you then. I got through the rest of work, then left to meet him at the ice cream parlor.
I walked in the door and saw him sitting alone in one of the booths. He was the only person in there in the middle of the day in the middle of winter. His head turned my way when he spotted someone in the doorway. He immediately got up, not giving me a smile or cracking a joke, and walked up to me like he could feel just how upset I was over our text messages.
“Everything alright?” He wrapped his arms around me and embraced me, hugging me like family, not like an old girlfriend. His powerful arms kept me close, let me lean on him for comfort.
“Yeah…I’m okay.” I clung to his warmth for a moment before I pulled away.
“You want some ice cream?” he asked. “We can split a sundae.”
I felt bad using the ice cream parlor without paying for anything, so I just nodded. “Sure.”
Tucker ordered a sundae with two cherries and two spoons and then carried it to the table. We sat in the booth, facing each other, the two spoons sticking upright because they were so deep in the ice cream.
He rested his elbows on the table and stared at me, still serious, wearing the same concerned expression that his brother did. His hair was a shade lighter, and his eyes weren’t so dangerous. They looked so much alike, but to me, they were two very different people. “Cleo, the suspense is killing me. Just talk to me.”
“Well…you can’t tell Deacon what I’m about to say.”
He looked out the window for a second, like I’d just asked him for something he couldn’t give. “That’s a lot to ask…”
“I know. But it’s killing me. I need someone to talk to. I just… I don’t have anyone else.” It wasn’t that I didn’t have any friends. There was just no one I felt comfortable sharing this information with. I considered Tucker to be a good friend, someone who’d helped me out with Deacon many times. He was the only person who knew each of us individually and together, the only person who understood the situation without needing an explanation.