Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
With a roll of her eyes, she grabs my shirt from the bed and tosses it at my chest.
One thing is for sure—the next time I see Ryder, I’ll have to thank him for his untimely interruption.
With my fist.
Chapter Eleven
Carina
With an aggravated huff, I shove Ford from my room and slam the door closed behind him. He can find his own damn way out of the apartment. Then I wait forty-five minutes, hoping Juliette and Ryder have taken off and we can talk about the unfortunate situation she walked in on another time.
Because I know damn well she’ll have questions.
And comments.
Lots of comments.
Ones I don’t particularly want to think about.
Or answer.
Ugh.
As the silence of the apartment settles around me, I crack open the bedroom door and creep into the hallway before peeking into the living room, which is exactly where I find Juliette camped out on the couch with a thick tome of a textbook spread open on her lap.
Damn. Looks like I won’t be given a reprieve after all.
When her gaze collides with mine, she takes off her tortoiseshell framed glasses and sets them on the coffee table.
That’s all it takes for awkward silence to descend. If it were possible to slink back into my room and quietly close the door again, I would. By the inquisitive look filling Juliette’s eyes, that’s not an option.
She’ll hunt me down if it becomes necessary.
“So…you and Ford, huh?”
My shoulders wilt as I stalk into the tiny living room and throw myself on the chair parked across from the couch. “There’s no me and Ford.”
Can you even imagine such a scenario?
A thick shiver slides through me at the thought.
“Are you sure? Because that’s not the way it looked to me.”
“One hundred percent.” I wave toward the scene of the crime, otherwise known as my bedroom. “We were studying, and one thing led to another.”
She snorts out a disbelieving laugh. “Is that your story?”
Unable to sit still, I pop to my feet and pace the length of the couch. Juliette’s gaze tracks every movement. “Yup. What you saw was nothing more than a lapse in judgement.”
“All right, if you say so.”
I spin around to face her, relieved that she isn’t going to fight me on this. “I do.”
“So…what would have happened if I hadn’t barged in and interrupted?”
I can only stare as the casually-thrown-out question spins through my head like a top.
It’s one I’m afraid to answer.
Especially when memories of the way he was able to rile me up so easily flood my brain.
But I can’t tell her that.
Are you kidding me?
Of course I can’t.
Barely am I able to admit it to myself.
“Nothing.”
That’s not what the voice at the back of my head is whispering.
All I can say is that the stupid, horny voice needs to shut the hell up.
“I need to get laid.” My brows draw together as I mentally calculate how long it’s been. When an answer doesn’t immediately come to mind, I force out a laugh before dropping down onto the chair. “It’s obviously been a while if I allowed Ford to lay his hands on me.”
Except…it had felt so damn good.
Both times.
Do you ever think about what it would feel like to have me buried deep inside your pussy?
His question pops into my brain before circling around it viciously.
In a moment of weakness, I admitted the truth. I do think about what it would be like to have Ford buried inside my body. But there’s no way I’d allow it to actually happen.
That would be the surest way to cause problems with Crawford. He’s one of the most important people in my life and sleeping with his son would only complicate our relationship. It’s bad enough that I have to worry about Mom fucking up the works at every turn.
That woman is a wildcard I have zero control over.
Now that rational thought has once again prevailed, the path forward seems perfectly clear. I need to keep my distance from Ford. It’s not like I haven’t been doing it for years. It was almost to the point where I could lock him in the back of my brain and forget about him completely.
For some unknown reason, that’s no longer possible.
“Carina?”
I blink out of those thoughts and refocus on Juliette. “Yeah?”
Her expression softens as if she realizes I’m not only lying to her but myself as well. “You know I’m always here if you want to talk, right?”
I force a smile. “Of course. And I appreciate it.”
When I say nothing more, she continues. “But there’s nothing to talk about?”
The question hangs in the air between us.
For a heartbeat or two, I’m tempted to tell her everything before pressing my lips together and shaking my head.
“Okay.” She reluctantly glances at the textbook on the coffee table. “Then I should probably get back to studying.”