Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 94609 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94609 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
I wished Peter hadn’t gotten under my skin so easily. And normally, he didn’t. It had been years since I’d had a burst of anger build inside me, forcing me to storm off from being around him. It happened a lot when we were younger because he’d push and push me into a corner, teasing me in a way that no one else could, without others knowing he was bullying me. He’d do it until I had a seemingly dramatic outburst, and that was the part that other people noticed—not the buildup. Only me hitting my breaking point. Then Peter would act as if nothing happened and pretend to be as confused as everyone else when I had my explosions.
To everyone outside of my grandparents, I was an unstable, stuttering monster. Well, to my grandparents and Thalia—Jensen’s mom. Thalia and Peter had been together for a long time. She knew my cousin inside out, and even though no one else could see through his fake shock, Thalia could. She was the one who taught me not to react. To hold my ground and not let Peter get under my skin because that simply pleased him. Ever since she told me that, I’d done my best not to react.
Until last night.
Fucking hell, why did I allow him to get under my skin so easily? It happened so quickly, and knowing that Willow witnessed me fall into my old stuttering ways sent a wave of painful heat throughout my whole body. I felt the stress sweats starting to build up more and more as the three of us stood outside the pizza parlor. I should’ve been stronger. I should’ve kept my cool. But for some odd reason, I couldn’t.
And Willow witnessed it all.
It wasn’t until I stormed off that I realized Peter won. He wanted her to see me at my worst. He wanted everyone to see me that way. I was halfway to my place before I realized I left Willow stranded, which made me despise myself more. Willow’s sister was right for calling me an asshole. What a fucking asshole I’d been.
By the time I got to the house, I was too ashamed to stick around, so I hopped straight on my boat and left. Like a coward.
I was still trying to mentally figure out why Peter bothered me so much at that very moment after so many years. The only difference in how he treated me this time was that Willow witnessed it. Why did I care what she thought? And how did I make my caring stop?
“You didn’t want to get in the way? Theo, we were all talking,” Willow explained, confusion floating in her eyes. “We were having a normal conversation.”
A normal conversation?
She couldn’t see how Peter was trying to bait me, either. He was a snake, yet he seemed like a stand-up guy to her. I hated that she saw him as a good guy. And me? I was the stuttering beast.
Being unable to get my words out in front of her made me feel like when I was a kid on the playground and struggled to make friends. I felt ridiculous. Ashamed. Alone.
Apologize, Theo. Just say sorry.
“I didn’t want to have a conversation,” I growled instead. Why? Hell if I knew. I just knew whenever I got defensive, people left me alone. And I wanted to be left alone.
“Gosh, why are you so, so, so…angry?! Peter was just making conversation.”
“He wasn’t just making conversation.”
“Yes, he was. He was worried about you afterward, too. It sounds like he wants a relationship with you.”
“Peter does not want a relationship with me. You don’t know him,” I spat out.
“So I’m supposed to believe that he was out to hurt you when you’re the one who stormed off and left me stranded? I was there trying to help you, seeing how you tripped over your words and—”
“I didn’t fucking ask you to speak for me!” I barked, feeling a nerve struck. I hated it when people spoke for me. I’d hated that for the longest time. I remember when I was a kid, I’d stutter so bad that teachers would try to finish my sentences for me. They’d make it a whole thing, and the other kids would snicker and laugh at me. The more the teachers attempted to figure out what I was trying to say, the more humiliated I’d become. Which only led to the worst stuttering. I hated it.
I hated when people spoke for me as a kid, and I damn sure hated it as an adult.
I was a grown man. I didn’t need a woman speaking on my behalf. Especially a wildflower woman like Willow.
“I’m sorry. I was just trying to help.” She gave me a small smile, and it felt painfully sincere. And dammit, that smile made my chest tighten in the weirdest way. She looked beautiful. I wished she stopped doing that when I was annoyed with her. It made me really confused.