Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78877 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78877 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” She backed up a step, a muscle in her jaw flexing.
“It means that you want someone. It’s like you decided that marriage and that fucking house were the destination, and the second your copilot bailed on Happiness Boulevard, you just picked up the next guy and threw him into the passenger seat without pause. You don’t love me. You just didn’t want to throw out your fucking embroidered hand towels.”
“My hand towels?” That fire was back in her eyes as her spine jerked ramrod stiff.
“Your hand towels! The ones you had C and R embroidered on. You just traded one C for another, and I hate to break it to you, babe, but I’m not the guy who settles for being the interchangeable initial.” Fuck that. I loved her too much to be her second choice. “You know what happens when you play chutes and ladders?”
“I have played the game, yes.” She blinked at me like I’d lost my mind. Maybe I had.
“Chuck fucked you over. You were up near the top, and he shoved you down the slide, but instead of starting back at square one and working yourself through the game board, you took the first fucking ladder to the top, using me to climb every rung. I’m pretty sure if you cut me open, you’d see your shoeprints all over my ribs.” Every breath without her hurt, and she had the nerve to fly here to what? Keep me on the line just in case it didn’t work out with Chuck? “And you know what the worst part of it is? I agreed to it. I let you. I wanted you to. I’m the masochistic asshole who asked you for it.”
“Caspian,” she whispered, shaking her head. “No.”
“I thought what we had was real. Shit timing, but real,” I managed to say through the lump in my throat. “But then I saw you with him. Saw the way he held you. Saw the way you held him right back. And I guess it hit me that the truth is you don’t fall in love in a month. That’s fucking insane. Lust? Absolutely. Infatuation? Sure. But love? Hardly. People who love each other make plans. They talk out their issues. They figure out how the hell a long-distance relationship can work. None of that was us. This isn’t love. It’s a rebound.”
“You think that I’m the one who didn’t communicate? Because I didn’t tell you I was having lunch with Chuck? You think this is all on me?” Her hands balled into fists as she glared up at me. “I’m the one standing on your front lawn, Caspian! I’m the one who chased you down like a love-sick idiot! You wouldn’t even pick up your phone!”
I raked my hand over my hair. “Why would I? You made it perfectly clear that you got what you wanted out of this relationship.” I shook my head. “Shit, that isn’t even the word, is it? This arrangement. Just do us both a favor and get back in your car and go home. You don’t need me anymore.” It didn’t matter that I needed her, that somewhere in the last month, I’d let her in. She’d taken over my heart like a Trojan horse and was now systematically destroying me from the inside.
“What I wanted? You…” She flushed, her cheeks turning bright red as she clenched her teeth. “You know what? After seeing Langley, I don’t owe you a single fucking explanation. Was I some kind of box to check? You were sowing your wild oats while I was falling in love with you?”
“Okay, first off, who the hell says sowing your wild oats? Are you eighty?”
“Just tell me one thing. Does your mama even know Langley is pregnant?” She lifted her brows at me.
Mine knitted together. “I honestly don’t think I mentioned it to her.” In the hustle and chaos of the wedding, my teammate’s baby hadn’t really come up as a topic of conversation.
“You. Are. Unbelievable. Who the fuck are you? You left your pregnant…what? Girlfriend? Baby mama? Wife? Fiancée? Here in Charleston so you could have a fling with the girl next door? Was it good for you? Does she even know what you’ve been doing this last month? How many times we’ve—” She slammed her mouth shut, her lips pressing into a thin line.
My jaw hit the floor. That’s what she meant by eight months too late. She thought Langley was mine. Thought Langley and Axel’s baby was…mine. Under any other circumstances her assumption would have made me laugh my ass off and tell her how wrong she was, but whatever hope had managed to survive the last few days of my misery shriveled and died on the porch, hollowing me out into an empty shell.