Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 25761 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25761 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
I nod.
“I know. He deserves to hear it from me.”
“Good,” she says smartly as our drinks come. “I know you’ll figure it out, Chris. You’re smart, intelligent, sassy, and in my opinion, you have that man wrapped around your little finger already. You’ll be fine!”
I smile but tears continue to blur my vision because I hope Prim’s right. But what if she’s wrong, and I’m cast into the gutter to be a single mother on my own? Of course, I’ll have my family to support me, but that’s not enough. I want Sanford to want this child, and I want him to want me too. Is that too much to ask for a girl in my profession?
10
Hulk
* * *
A week later.
“Hey baby,” I growl while rolling over in bed to drop a kiss on my girl’s shoulder. “You feel like working out with me this morning?”
A small groan rolls from her throat and she crams the pillow over her face.
“No, sorry. I’m just not feeling up to it.”
I drop another kiss on her collarbone.
“Okay. Feel better soon, okay sweetheart? I’ll make us some breakfast after my workout.”
Chrissy doesn’t remove the pillow from her face so her voice is muffled when she speaks.
“Sure. Sounds good.”
With that, I roll out of bed before pulling on some loose gym shorts, and then cast one last glance at Chrissy’s still form before heading upstairs to my in-home gym. Maybe some hard running on the treadmill will help me work off some of this pent-up frustration. After all, my girl’s been distant for a week now, and she avoids my questions. She keeps saying she’s fine, but I wasn’t born yesterday. It’s obvious that something’s wrong. To be honest, it seems like Chrissy’s barely able to drag herself out of bed most days, and her answers are just one-word and abrupt. She says she’s been feeling sick, but maybe it’s time we go to the hospital.
Like an automaton, my feet pound into the treadmill, and the heavy thumps make me feel better. A week of the cold shoulder is long enough. It’s been too long, actually. I don’t know what’s going on, but the moping and avoidance has to end, and if Chrissy doesn’t talk to me then I’m going to drag her to the hospital by her hair.
I run until my lungs are burning, and my thigh muscles ready to collapse. I did ten miles according to the monitor, and even with the hard workout, questions still churn in my brain. What’s wrong with her? Why won’t she talk to me? Why won’t she even look me in the eye?
Grabbing my towel and water bottle, I storm downstairs, ready to confront her. But Chrissy’s not in bed anymore, and when I glance around, I see her sitting with her legs crossed at the window nook. She hasn’t gotten dressed. The curvy girl’s still wearing a gray tank top and oversized sweatpants, with her curls piled on top of her head in a messy heap, but she’s never looked more delectable. Those big breasts beckon to me through the loose fabric, and remembering the warmth of her cunt has me hot and bothered in seconds.
“Hey girlie,” I say in a low voice. “What’s up?”
Chrissy turns to look at me, and to my shock, her eyes look a bit glazed over, like she’s a million miles away. Even weirder, when I look inside her cup, I realize that it’s juice and not coffee. That’s strange considering my girl has an addiction to joe.
“Are we out of beans for the coffee machine? I can get some delivered if we’re out.”
Very slowly, Chrissy looks at me and then blinks hard. At first, I’m not even sure she’s seeing me because that blank stare is downright eerie. But then she shakes her head slightly as if to clear it and finally comes to life.
“No. I don’t think so. Do you want me to make some for you?”
I shake my head.
“No, I’m good, but honey, why are you drinking OJ in the morning? I thought you always had coffee. Like you’d get a pounding headache without it.”
She shrugs her shoulders and a shuttered look comes over her eyes.
“I just thought it might be nice for a change.”
Gritting my teeth, I have to turn away from her for a second because I’m so fucking angry all of a sudden. Why is she lying? Why is she feeding me the same sort of bullshit she’s been telling me all week? I grip my towel and blow out a harsh breath before turning back to her. Her eyes are downturned, staring at the mug in her hands while tracing the rim absentmindedly with a thumb.
“Chrissy, look at me.”
The curvy girl doesn’t move. She doesn’t do anything to acknowledge my voice except for a slight pause in the movement of her finger.