Total pages in book: 142
Estimated words: 131330 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 525(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131330 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 525(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Star offers him a tight smile before scurrying away like a mouse that’s just been caught red-handed, and honestly, I wasn’t sure the human species was capable of moving that fast.
Once she’s flown out of the gas station, Izaac releases my hand and puts the gas pump away before finally making his way back around the car and into the driver’s seat. He turns on the engine and slowly drives out to the main road, the two of us now sitting in uncomfortable silence, his hand kept way over on his side.
I let out a heavy sigh. This constant tension between us is becoming a pain in my ass.
The silence is unbearable, but luckily for me, I’m not the one to break. “What the hell was that back there?” he asks, a few streets away from his place.
I fix my stare out the window. “What was what? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Bullshit. You grabbed my hand because you were jealous.”
I scoff, my head whipping toward him as my eyes widen like saucers. “Me? Jealous? Yeah fucking right,” I laugh. “I hate to break it to you and bruise that precious ego of yours, but I’ve had to watch you fawn over random women for years. If I were the type to get jealous, I would have gone insane years ago.”
He smirks, reaching for my hand, and naturally, I lift it right into his, letting him lace his fingers through mine again. “Whatever. You were jealous.”
Fucking asshole.
I roll my eyes and let out a frustrated sigh. “Like you’re one to talk. If the shoe was on the other foot and I was the one out there flirting with Star, you wouldn’t have been able to handle it.”
“You and Star?” he questions. “Don’t get me wrong, I don’t like to share, but that would have been hot.”
“Ugh,” I groan. “Need I remind you of how you acted when I had that Tinder date? You called Austin and sabotaged it. Not to mention, I saw the jealousy in your eyes when you thought I was leaving for a hot date tonight.”
Izaac scoffs. “That wasn’t jealousy. I was just trying to control my raging erection after you tried to seduce me.”
“Tried?” I question. “There was no trying about it. I succeeded.”
Izaac falls silent, and when he discreetly pulls his hand out of mine, acting as though he needs it to drive, I watch as he rebuilds the walls around him. Apparently, my hero for the night has disappeared, leaving me with the usual broody asshole who does anything in his power to pick a fight.
Disappointment spreads through my chest like a disease, and it becomes all too clear that this is a pattern for him. He starts thinking something could happen, starts believing that everything is going to be okay, but then he gets inside that idiotic head of his and shuts down like an old computer malfunctioning with a virus.
He’s my virus.
Realizing it’s pointless trying to fight this and knowing we will only end up going in circles, I let my hand settle back into my lap and sit in the tension-filled silence until we finally pull into his long driveway.
My lips press into a hard line. I haven’t been here in ages, and now that he’s closed himself off to me, I’m starting to regret the decision to come here. Over the past few years, I’ve purposefully gone out of my way to avoid his home, because every time I’m here, I picture how it could be or what my life might look like if we were ever to be together. The kitchen I’d cook for him in. The shower we’d share as we told our war stories from the day. The bedroom we’d make love in. The nursery where we’d raise a child.
Shit.
This is exactly why I shouldn’t be here. I get carried away, and now I’ve backed myself into a corner. Is it too late to tell him to turn around and take me home? It’s after two in the morning. He wouldn’t mind. He’d do it without question, but I’ve already stolen too much of his night. Not to mention, if he were to drive me back to my apartment, it’d be almost three before he finally got home and got to sleep. Don’t get me wrong, I’m pissed with him right now, but I’m not a completely careless bitch.
I can handle one night. I think.
All I need to do is find the spare room, lock the door behind me, and go to bed. Hell, I can even pretend I’m on a tropical island instead of in the home I’ve spent the past few years dreaming of sharing with him.
What could possibly go wrong?
29
IZAAC
Aspen storms inside my home, and I watch after her, my brows furrowed. She’s had one hell of a night. The last thing she needs is to have it out with me again. Yet as she finds the spare room and shoves the door open, I find myself following her in. “What the fuck is wrong with you now?” I demand, instantly regretting both my choice of words and my tone.