Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 61905 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61905 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
His gaze drops to find mine again, and his crystal-clear blue eyes narrow as his laughter abruptly stops. “Lucas is anything but a good man, even his girl knows that.”
“I like Chanel,” I remark, smiling.
“Seems you have terrible taste. Not in Chanel, but definitely in Lucas. Lucas is the worst of us, and that’s saying something. Stay away from him.” He steps past, leaving me standing there with my mouth hanging open in disbelief.
“You will not, not for a single second…” I seethe, stomping toward him, and as he stops and turns back to me, my finger jabs into his chest, “… think you can tell me who and what I can and can’t be around. You are not my father, and even if you were, look where that got him,” I add with a smile. “I’ll slit your throat in your sleep if you think you can tell me what to do.” I remove my finger and step back, gesturing toward the door. “You can leave now. Have a nice night, Joey.” A small smirk tugs at his lips, but he doesn’t move a muscle. “I said… you can leave now.”
“No. I have a better idea. Why don’t you come to mine so you can see your new room?”
“All the better to slit your throat in?” I taunt.
“See, the more you talk dirty to me, the more I want to fuck you.” The smirk he has firmly ingrained on his face hasn’t left, and I don’t know if he’s serious or not. “A little blood never hurt no one.” He shrugs, and my stomach flips. “Get a coat and let’s go.” He pulls open my front door and takes a few steps. When he notices I’m not following, he stops. “You have ten seconds, or I will spend the night here in your bed.”
I would like to say I think he’s joking, but I have a feeling he isn’t. So, somewhat reluctantly, I grab my coat and keys, then follow him out as I lock my front door. We walk down to his car, and he doesn’t open my car door for me.
Pig!
I scoff at him as I do it myself.
“What?” he says.
“You are no gentleman, Joey Rossi.” I get in, pulling the coat over me before I buckle myself in.
“And you ain’t no lady. So let’s not get too tied up in what we are now, shall we?”
It’s wrong to hit him in the head with my phone, right?
Or stab him in the neck with my keys?
I could do either and smile while doing it. Instead, I sit here, not saying a word, as he drives. And he doesn’t say anything either.
Asshole.
FIVE
JOEY
She smells like bubble gum with hints of cotton candy.
Why the fuck does she smell so good?
It makes me so mad.
No woman should smell that good.
Especially not her.
She sits rigidly in the passenger’s seat, her phone and keys clutched in her hand. I’m pretty sure she wants to stab me with them.
That’s not going to happen.
I pull up to my house, and her nose turns up.
“Does it have to be so flashy?”
I glance back at my home, a brownstone with three stories right near Keir’s.
“It’s not flashy. Now get out.”
She follows as I stride up the stairs to the front door. Her footsteps are heavy as I push the black door open. Adora comes in behind me, and I feel her scrutinizing glare taking everything in.
“You like the color blue,” she states.
“I do,” I reply as Adora walks into the kitchen and runs her hands over the white marble countertop with a blue backsplash. Black stools sit on one side of the counter and black pendant lights drip from the ceiling. The sliding glass door next to the kitchen leads out to a small outdoor sitting area.
Adora walks to the left and continues her investigation, stopping when she gets to the back of the house. I stare in fascination as her hands run along my books.
She glances back at me. “You need some romance in your life,” she comments as she looks over the titles. “This is all law and finance.”
“I enjoy them.”
She laughs under her breath, then gets to the white library ladder which sits in front of the blue shelving. She turns, sitting her ass on it, and looks up at me as the downlights highlight the books behind her.
“I hate it,” I can hear the lie as she says it.
“You can put your romance books there.” I point to a shelf, and she tries to fight her smile, but it wins.
“Really?” she asks.
“Yes.”
“What about the color?” Chocolate-colored hair flicks across her face as she glances behind her to the shelving.
“The blue stays.”
“I guess I can work with that.” She shrugs, then shoots me a glare straight from the pits of Hell. “I’m not fucking you. You having my body never was, and never will be, a part of this arrangement.”