Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 73828 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73828 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
He smiles, but I can tell he’s a little uneasy.
“Don’t worry. She meets all my tricks.”
“Yes, Mark,” she says. “Don’t be uncomfortable. It’s not like you came in here without any pants on. And trust me, that happens.”
He laughs. “Oh, God. That would have been embarrassing.”
He heads to the kitchen sink and rinses off his plate before opening the dishwasher and putting it away.
“I could have gotten that,” I tell him.
“Oh, no. You’ve done more than enough.”
He gets a funny expression on his face and then turns to Nanna quickly. “He was helping me because I was drunk. We didn’t do anything.”
I can tell by the way Nanna smirks she doesn’t believe him.
“Of course,” she says before taking a sip of her tea.
“Do you happen to have a trash bag?” he asks me.
“Yeah. In that broom closet over there. I put the clothes in the spare bedroom beside mine.”
He heads to the closet and retrieves a garbage bag. I’m kind of impressed with how effortlessly he makes himself at home. Most guys wouldn’t be so bold.
As he closes the closet door, he turns to Nanna. “Sorry. I have a little bit of a mess to take care of, but it was nice meeting you.”
“You as well.”
When he heads back to get the dirty clothes, Nanna says, “Well, isn’t he a cute one?”
“Shut it.”
She snickers and takes another sip of her tea.
“He’s all right,” I confess.
“I bet he is.”
9
MARK
“Where have you been?” Greg rises from the couch and approaches me.
“How the fuck did you get in here?” I ask, dropping the bag of Tim’s clothes beside the kitchen counter of my apartment. After I left his place, I swung by the laundromat to take care of the mess I made.
“I told the landlord I lost my key.”
I set my keys on the counter. “That was real clever. I guess I didn’t realize I had to let everyone in the building know we broke up. I guess I need to send him an email. Now get the fuck out.”
He stands there in a red hoodie and jeans, his short blond hair combed to the side. He looks like a model. Like someone I would have pulled up a thousand times on my laptop when I was in my teens to jerk off to his image. And while I admit it was hot being with him, that sharp jawline and those hypnotic blue eyes are just reminders of someone who broke my heart. As shitty as his grades are, I’m pissed at how clever he was about being a sleazy fuck.
“Hold up,” he says in his most masculine voice—the sort I figure he has to use around all his frat bros. “You got to tell me what the fuck was going on between you and Tim Halwell.”
“What business of that is yours? And why do you think after what you did you get to come walking back into my life like this, acting like you have a say about shit? If I choose to fuck around with Tim, that’s my business. But like hell I’m going to listen to you about anything after what you did. Why don’t you go back to Morgan, and you two chat about how I’m totally losing my mind right now.”
“Mark…”
“Get the fuck out before I call the police.”
He sighs before heading toward me. I step out of the path to the door, and he glances at the garbage bag stuffed with Tim’s clothes as he passes. When he reaches the door, he turns back to me.
“I am sorry about what happened,” he says. “And I hope in time you can come to forgive me, because I do care about you. And I want us to be friends.”
“And I wanted to be with a good guy, but I guess we can’t all get what we want, can we?”
“If you think fucking around with Tim Halwell is a way to protect yourself, you’re heading down a dangerous path.”
“You don’t even know him.”
“We both know what he is. What he does with guys. You think I’m bad? Why don’t you ask your buddy Keith about his games?”
I’ll have my chance. When I checked my phone this morning, I saw the message from him. He has the same question as Greg, and for a very good reason. Although, I don’t know how the fuck to explain this to him. I need to find a way, though, considering I agreed to have lunch with him.
Greg starts to head out, but glances at the bag one more time.
“It’s Tim’s laundry,” I say. I want to leave him with that…as a big fat Fuck You. “Goodbye.”
He closes his eyes like he’s summoning the strength not to say anything else. Then he heads out, leaving me reeling in anger. Fury.
This isn’t what I wanted to come home to. Not while I still feel exhausted and tired and dirty from the night before.