Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 52384 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 262(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52384 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 262(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
And that was more than enough.
Or at least I thought so until…now.
After parking Freddie’s car, I was on my way to the local craft store when I noticed a familiar figure inside. I jerked to a stop, unable to believe what I was seeing.
Impossible, my mind cried out to me. This had to be a dream – a nightmare.
I even went as far as rubbing my eyes, hating myself for being so childish but unable to help it.
Please let me just be imagining this---
But when I opened my eyes again, reality was even worse.
I saw Daria.
My best friend.
My beautiful, kind best friend---
And coming up to her from behind was him.
Tall, dark, and handsome.
Strong and powerful.
A man every girl would want---
A man no one else could have, and especially not me because Daria would always own his heart.
I walked away, as fast as I could, and when it wasn’t enough, I ran.
But it still wasn’t enough.
Forgetting wasn’t enough.
I thought it was, but now I knew it wasn’t.
Forgetting him didn’t mean I had stopped loving him. It didn’t mean that I would stop hurting---
Oh God, it hurt. It hurt to love him, hurt to know that he loved someone else, hurt so damn bad knowing that he would never love me.
When my trembling legs could no longer carry me, I half-stumbled onto one of the empty tables outside a French patisserie. My heart was beating so hard against my chest it was almost as if I had just escaped from death’s noose, and I struggled to catch my breath.
Why did it still hurt?
Why?
Why?
Before I knew what I was doing, I already had my phone out, my thumb practically punching the Call button.
Nathan Callis answered a moment later. “Sweetheart.” His Greek-accented tone was beautiful and hateful, the sound reminiscent of both heaven and hell. “I admit to being pleasantly surprised---”
I didn’t let him finish, crying out shakily, “Come here.” My voice was too high-pitched, trembling too hard. It just didn’t sound like me, and I hated it.
“Alyx?” Nathan’s voice was grim. “What the hell happened---”
“Didn’t you hear what I said?” This time the words came out a shriek, and I hated myself even more. I was screaming at him in public when he hadn’t done a thing to deserve it.
But even so---
An excruciatingly vivid image took hold of my mind, forcing me to remember and relive the agony.
Tall, beautiful, voluptuous gray-eyed Daria, laughing merrily at what he said as he came up to her from behind, his strong arms going around her waist---
Pain tried to swallow me whole, and I forced back down another sob as I choked out, “Come here.” I wanted to say more, but I just couldn’t.
How silly I was, thinking that making out, playing dirty games, and countless orgasms were enough---
How goddamn silly---
“Alyx, what the hell’s wrong?”
A violent shudder seized my body, and I managed to say, “I don’t care what you’re doing, just come here.”
Come here.
Come here and make me forget.
Come here and save me.
Nathan
The flight to San Francisco took over three hours, and every minute of it was spent in grim silence, with Nathan Callis’ mind having taken on a masochistic bent. It forced him to replay Alyx’s frantic call, forced him to relive the tension that had gripped him the moment he realized she was about to break apart.
“I don’t care what you’re doing, just come here.” Words so damn unlike Alyx to say, her need like tendrils that threatened to strangle his heart. Instinct had kicked in a second after, and he took charge – the way they both knew she was asking him to.
Tell me where you are.
Go to the nearest hotel.
Request a room.
Enjoy a glass of wine then wait for me.
He had issued the instructions in a hard voice, knowing that it was the only way to get her to move and keep it together. “Say you’ll do it, sweetheart.” The words formed another command.
It took Alyx so long to answer that when she did, Nathan had been an inch away from growling her name out.
“Okay.” Her tone had been low and fragile, but at least it was no longer shaking. She had calmed down, and Nathan’s own breathing had slowly eased at the realization.
As soon as he had ended the call, his godfather had remarked in a tone rich with interest, “I’ve never seen you so worried before.”
Understandably so, Nathan had thought grimly, since worry didn’t come naturally to him.
He had almost always been in control of his life, his absentee father having made him self-reliant from when he was a child. And in the one instance he had made a grave miscalculation, it had only caused him pain and bleakness.
But not worry.
Never worry.
To worry meant a part of his life had become unpredictable and out of control, and that had never happened to him in the past.