Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
“I can’t understand that at all,” I snap.
“No?”
“You wouldn’t be here if you could either,” I tell him.
He smirks, making me want to snap at him again. Something about him calling me “girl” really pissed me off. A silence stretches between us. It’s not awkward, exactly, but it’s not comfortable either. It’s like we’re … well … precisely what we are—two acquaintances with a few shared experiences but nothing more.
“Well, good luck,” I say because I can’t take the silence anymore.
“And you,” he murmurs.
I turn away, telling myself I’ve got no reason to feel disappointed. I don’t know what I expected. I shouldn’t even be thinking about anything. I shouldn’t be wishing he was taking an interest in me. I shouldn’t wonder what it would feel like to have his powerful savior’s arms wrapped around me.
It’s weird, especially considering I was twelve the last time I saw him, and he’s almost twice my age. Yet when he calls my name, I can’t stop a giant, relieved smile from spreading across my face.
CHAPTER FIVE
LANDON
“Lily!”
I say her name like it means something. When she turns to face me, she looks at me as though this moment has significance, too. We stand on a grimy street, the sunlight hidden behind gray clouds, yet excitement runs through me. Months, not years…
Usually, I’m sure I could beat down this feeling. I’d be able to fight this ache deep in my gut and ignore how my gaze moves to her wide hips, thick legs, and the ferocious, capable glint in her eyes. I should be able to ignore it even better now, knowing this can lead nowhere.
“Yeah?” she murmurs, licking her lips.
“Give me your number,” I say, proving it’s been a long time since I’ve done anything like this. I’m so blunt. “Since we’re working in the same area, maybe we can help each other. I know you’re technically not allowed, but since you’re not supposed to be here alone anyway …”
“Yeah, that’s a good idea. Do you want to take mine and then text me?”
When I take out my cell, I’m sure I notice her waiting eagerly, her mouth slightly open, her eyes fixated on me. I wonder if she knows, or suspects, that I wasn’t going to make this about work when I called her name. I was going to ask her on a date flat-out. If my diagnosis has unhinged me slightly, it hasn’t made me completely insane. Yet.
“Okay, great,” she says once I’ve texted her my number. “Let me know if … you want to talk or anything.”
She turns away again, leaving me to struggle with not staring at her skirt, hugging the thickness of her ass. I try to be a gentleman, not to objectify, but goddamn, it’s like she’s trying to drive me toward obsession. The movement of her ass from side to side takes my fantasies to savage places.
At her car, she looks over her shoulder. I quickly raise my hand in what I hope is a civilized way. She’s a young woman I knew briefly when she was a kid. I inspired her; I helped her. That’s all. I can’t let this cancer crap make me act like a fool.
After she’s driven away, I take out my cell and call the parent I’m here to meet. When he tells me he’s at the store and he’ll be five minutes, I decide to wander over to The Bear. Booze and maybe blood stain the surrounding sidewalk. The door has a piece of duct tape on it that could be covering a bullet hole.
I almost jump when the door opens a crack.
“Can I help you?” a low, urgent voice snaps.
“Just looking at your fine establishment.”
“It’s not mine,” the voice grunts, the person hidden in shadow. “Owner’s not here, and you don’t want to be snooping around if he decides to visit, believe me.”
“Is that so?” I say. “I suppose I should be scared …”
I’m not usually this confrontational. Months, not years. “Be scared. Be brave. Just don’t be here at the wrong time, buddy. This is a fair warning.”
“And this is a fair warning; nobody will threaten me. I don’t give a fuck who your bosses are. They can be the biggest motherfuckers in the city, but I won’t let them scare me or, worse, scare innocent kids. You hear that?”
“Who the fuck are you, guy?” the man snaps.
“Landon Cross,” I say with too much confidence, as though I think the doctor’s diagnosis has already come true, as though I think I don’t have to worry about my own life. “If your employers have a problem with me looking around, tell them to search me up. I’m easy to find.”
“Maybe I’ll do that, Landon Cross.”
He slams the door, leaving me to wonder if I’ve just made a mistake. I probably shouldn’t have to wonder, considering that when I did pro bono work in dangerous neighborhoods, I’d always be careful not to trigger people if I didn’t need to. I probably didn’t need to take a stand there.