Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 74004 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74004 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
“Hardly,” I scoffed, earning a proud nod from Daniel.
“You’re a queen, and they should kiss your feet,” he praised. It was small things that Daniel said that instilled a strength in me. He would always push me for more like he expected nothing less, and I never wanted to lose that. I never wanted to do anything but make him proud, because he was the only person to ask for more beyond being pretty.
Mom made jokes about my obsession with shopping, but it’d rarely been about the clothes and everything about the materials, the colors, the design. I’d find an outfit or a room and think of ways I’d design it to make it better. Mom had stumbled upon my sketch pad and had told me it was pretty. Daniel had stumbled upon me and had sat down and asked me what my plans were to make it a career.
“Don’t be with any men,” Dad chimed in, pulling me from my thoughts.
My mom scoffed and rolled her eyes before turning to me. “By the way, how was your date with Aaron.”
“It wasn’t a date, Mom. He’s not my boyfriend.”
I’d gone over to Aaron’s with the intention to ease the ache growing in me each moment I was around Kent. I’d needed a release from someone other than myself. But when Aaron had started kissing me, I couldn’t even close my eyes, make a grocery list, and pretend. Much to his disappointment, I’d made an excuse and bolted.
“Good,” Dad said. “Let’s keep it that way.” He slapped the table like he was dropping a gavel on the subject. “Dinner was delicious, Jules.”
“Thank you. I’m glad you were able to make it.”
My dad looked at his watch. “Well, it’s almost nine, which calls for a drink. Kent. Daniel. You two want to come have a drink in my office?”
“Almost nine?” Mom asked. “Oh, shoot. I have a phone call with Linda about the charity meeting.” Mom looked at the dishes with a frown.
“I’ve got clean-up, Mom.”
She turned to me with a relieved smile like I’d said I’d donate a kidney and not just some time. “Are you sure?”
“Of course, no big deal.”
“Well, we’ll help clear the table before heading to the office,” Dad offered.
“Thank you. Alexander, it was so good to see you again. Don’t be a stranger.” She stood and gave us all a smile before leaving.
I gathered the dishes and took them into the kitchen, hearing the chairs scrape back as the guys did the same and piled the plates and cups by the sink.
“You need help?” Dad offered.
“That’s okay. Go relax after your long flight.”
He gave another kiss to my head and headed to his office. Daniel ruffled my hair before he and Kent followed behind. Before they left, Kent gripped Daniel’s shoulder to get his attention. “I’m gonna run to the restroom real quick.” But when he should have gone right to the bathroom, he instead stood in the doorway, watching my uncle and dad until they disappeared. Then he stepped back into the kitchen and turned to face me.
I ignored his stare and focused on rinsing the dishes. I didn’t want to meet his eyes and let him see the fire that still simmered in my chest. I peeked from the side of my eye and took in the way he stood tall with his hands shoved into his pockets. He didn’t say anything until he was only a couple feet away.
“Did you have a good time with your boyfriend?”
“He’s not my boyfriend. And it was fine.” I paused when I set the plate in the dishwasher, giving him my full attention. “Why do you care?” I asked like a challenge. Maybe the same heat that singed me at the thought of him with another was burning through him too.
His brows lowered like he was also confused about why he’d asked. Finally, he shook his head and answered. “I don’t. It was just a friendly question.”
A friendly question?
I snorted at his bullshit answer. He’d stayed back just to ask a friendly question? I doubted it. I closed the dishwasher and stood to my full height, shoulders back like I was preparing for battle. He wanted to ask about my night, so I figured I’d return the favor.
“Well, then, as your friend, did you have a good night with your lady-friend at Voyeur?” The fire burning through me intensified as images of our night at Voyeur assaulted me. Did he get her off in the hall? Did he use kid-gloves with her?
He pulled his shoulders back to match my pose. We stood like we were preparing for a duel, and I didn’t even know what we were battling over. Who would cave first and admit to the jealousy? Who would give in to the tension tugging between us?
“Good enough, I didn’t have to close my eyes and imagine someone else.”