Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87921 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87921 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
He shakes his head. “Put on your shirt and let’s go.”
“Fine. I didn’t want to have sex with you anyway,” I say, even though I’m seriously hurt by the fact that he won’t, and all I can do is try to think of what I did or said that made me so unappealing to him.
Am I just not his type? That can’t be it because he clearly liked looking at my body. And what the fuck was that bullshit about not knowing me? No one knows their tricks. No one I’ve fucked around with wants to know anything about me first…or after for that matter.
We walk down the hall to the elevator together. The wait is awkward, neither of us speaking as we make our way down to the lobby—one I’m familiar with from the other guys I’ve hooked up with here. He walks me out the door. “You gonna be okay?”
I hear the concern in his voice, and it eases some of my frustration about his rejection. I relax the pout I’m forcing, reminding myself I owe this guy. And he’s a good person, regardless of how my ego feels about him right now.
“Thank you again for last night.”
It’s the first time I’ve ever said that to a guy in a totally non-sexual way.
“It wasn’t an issue. But please, be careful.”
“I’ll be careful.” I turn but then spin back to him quickly. He’s pulled out his phone like he’s about to make a call. “Sorry for that whole taking off my shirt and getting mad at you for not wanting to fuck me thing.” I approach him. “You mind if I make a call with your phone real quick?”
“Sure,” he says. I take it from him, and as I’m dialing, he asks, “Did your phone die?”
My phone dings in my pocket.
“No. Works fine. Just stealing your digits. Talk to you later.” I hand him back his phone and head down the street toward Metropolis.
I honestly don’t know why I wanted his number. Maybe just because that’s something I’m used to doing with tricks. Maybe because I’m hoping he’ll reconsider my offer and hit me up. Or maybe because he seems like a really nice guy who I’d like to stay in touch with.
But I don’t imagine I’ll be seeing him again. And for some reason, that makes me kinda sad.
3
Jackson
Three weeks later
“You look tired,” my ex-wife, Stephanie, says to me as we sit at a diner.
Tired doesn’t begin to explain it. I’ve picked up a few extra shifts at work, something I plan to continue. Putting extra money away never hurts. Feels like something always comes up and I’m the one who fixes it. “I’m fine,” I tell her because I am. This is nothing I haven’t gone through before—too much shit on my mind for me to get any real rest.
“You’re lying.”
“Are we really going to do this, Steph?” I ask her.
“You’re right. I don’t know why I expected things to change. You never really let me in while we were married. Why would you let me in now?”
I fight to hold in my groan. It’ll just irritate her even more and I’m not in the mood for it.
Still, she’s right. I know she’s right. She knows she’s right. The people at the next table probably know she’s right just by listening to our conversation.
“One of these days, you’re going to have to let someone else take care of you,” she adds.
“I don’t need anyone to take care of me. I can take care of myself.”
“Of course you can, Jackson. Big, tough man doesn’t need anyone.”
“I don’t want to fight with you.” I take a drink of my coffee.
“Yeah, I know. I don’t want to fight with you either.”
The thing is, Stephanie and I get along well. She’s basically my closest friend. We’ve had our issues like everyone has, but our split was a decision we made calmly together—one we’d both known was coming for years. We love each other, but we weren’t in love. I don’t know if we ever were, but we always wanted what was best for our son, Zane. He’s always been what was important—giving him the life we never had. We started the paperwork without telling Zane because our plan was to wait until after his senior year in high school, but shit rarely goes according to plan.
He found out when he’d accidentally overheard Stephanie on the phone. Steph decided there was no point in waiting then, so here we are.
“What did you want to meet about?” I ask her, figuring we need to get to it. I have to be at work in a little while. “Is everything okay with Zane? If he needs something, you know I’ll—”
“That’s always been my favorite thing about you.”
“What?” I ask, my brows pulled together.
“The way you love our son. He always has been and always will be the most important person in your world.”