Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 121578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 608(@200wpm)___ 486(@250wpm)___ 405(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 608(@200wpm)___ 486(@250wpm)___ 405(@300wpm)
I don’t even know why I’m so annoyed.
I’ve spent my whole life making sure I don’t become anything like my father.
And sometimes I think I’m even worse.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Jigsaw
I ride straight to Margot’s place after my afternoon with my sister.
She meets me in the parking lot, looking adorable in a long sweater she has wrapped around her like a bathrobe.
“So, how’d it go?” she asks as soon as I get off my bike.
I set my helmet on the seat and run through a couple different answers, then go with the worst one.
“Well, I guess my aunt, and probably my sister, are worried I’ll turn into a violent monster like my father, so that was a nice kick in the balls.”
The words taste bitter on my tongue. I can’t believe the first thing I’m doing is whining to Margot about my wittle hurt feeeelings.
But it gnawed at me the whole ride here.
“What?” Her eyes widen. “Why?”
“I don’t know. Runs in the family?”
I move closer, reaching for her, needing to feel her warmth against me.
But she stops me with a hand against my chest.
My heart stutters. But as I stare into her determined eyes, I don’t see rejection.
“Jensen, I realize I never met your father but from what you’ve told me and everything I know about you, you’re the opposite of him in every way that matters.” She cups my cheeks with her soft warm hands and leans up, brushing a kiss against my lips.
Such a sweet, simple gesture but it eases all the rage and shame that simmered inside me the whole way here.
“Thanks.” I hug her close. “Jezzie claims she doesn’t think that, and she told my aunt that’s not true, but it still burned my ass…”
“I don’t blame you.” She purses her lips together, as if she’s deep in thought.
“Come on.” I tug on her hand. “I don’t want to talk about this out here.”
She nods and leads me inside, up the stairs, and into her apartment in silence.
“How was your day?” I ask as I’m taking off my boots.
“Long.” She frowns and slips off her sweater, draping it over the chair in the corner. “You know, whatever your aunt’s said probably feels especially offensive since it sounds like, from what you’ve told me, you’ve never spent a lot of time around her as an adult. So, she has no idea who you are as a person. I’d be annoyed too.”
God damn. That’s exactly it. Margot understanding what I’m feeling and confirming that I’m not being a sulky prick about it soothes the chaotic fire swirling in my chest.
“I missed you today. Wish I had you with me. Even Jezzie seemed disappointed you didn’t come.”
Margot’s brows lift. “Really?”
“Yeah, she likes you a lot.”
Margot bites her lip, then nods. “I liked her too. I’ll go visit with you next time. But I think it’s good you two had some alone time together.”
I shrug. “Yeah. It was.” All the bad feelings that got raised about my father almost blotted out the hilarity of running into Jezzie’s crush. “You’ll be proud of me. We ran into a guy she clearly has a crush on, and I didn’t try to scare him or embarrass her.”
“Awww, it’s nice to be a grown-up sometimes, huh?” she teases.
“Heh.” The corners of my mouth turn up. “We covered lots of grown-up topics. It was kind of surreal.”
She doesn’t laugh or prod me for details. “I’m really happy for you guys.”
I wrap my arms around her, pulling her in tight, breathing her in. “Thank you for pushing me to go.”
She melts into me, arms sliding around my waist.
“Anytime,” she whispers.
I press a kiss against her temple, letting my lips linger.
I love this woman.
Every part of her.
I should tell her.
The words sit heavy in my chest, right there, waiting to be said.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Margot
“Margot,” Jigsaw whispers, urgency in his voice.
I blink. My room’s still dark. Only the suggestion of pale gray light glows around the edges of my curtains.
Jigsaw’s bigger body’s wrapped around me. Protective and possessive even though it’s just the two of us in my bed.
My body shifts, stretches, my butt grazing him. Heat sweeps over my skin. He’s hard. I roll my hips again. Between my legs I’m already aching for him.
A deep groan rumbles through his chest, and he presses himself tighter against my back. “Don’t distract me,” he rasps in his sleep-rough voice. “I need to tell you something.”
Now alarmed, I roll over. He props himself up on one elbow, eyebrows drawn down. His serious expression pulls me fully awake. He’s not waking me up for sex. “What? What’s wrong?”
His frown deepens. “Nothing’s wrong.” Then he reaches for me, cupping the side of my face. “I just…I can’t…”
I draw back, dislodging the covers as I go. Did he wake me up to…break up with me?
No. My gaze drops to his tight black boxer briefs. He wouldn’t wake up hard and insistent with someone he wanted to break up with, would he?