Total pages in book: 19
Estimated words: 17343 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 87(@200wpm)___ 69(@250wpm)___ 58(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 17343 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 87(@200wpm)___ 69(@250wpm)___ 58(@300wpm)
He draws in another heavy breath and for several seconds he just stands there before he huffs out that air and scrubs his hand through the thick strands of his dark hair. It’s an act of frustration, something he rarely shows, at least not with others, but he can’t hold back with me and I’m not sure what that says about us. All I know is that I feel like nothing more than the sum of an acting gig as his fake fiancée.
His cellphone rings and he says, “I need a drink.”
He ignores the call and walks toward the bar. I hug myself, a sharp stab of guilt in my belly. I shouldn’t have said that to him. “Damion,” I say, taking a step toward him.
He holds up a hand without ever even looking at me. “Not now, Alana.”
My chin dips to my chest with the rejection I deserve. I’m hurt and I lashed out and I’ve seen how that works for my parents. It destroys relationships. And Damion and I aren’t kids anymore who can scream at each other one minute and just go play outside the next. Life is far more complicated as adults. We’re far more complicated.
I walk toward the floor-to-ceiling window again, bringing in the glint and glitter of the stars and city light blurred by a heavy cloud cover. A storm is coming, and it’s not just the weather. It’s me and Damion. It’s him and his father. It’s me and my family.
I’m just wildly confused about what is happening between me and Damion, while he appears wildly uncertain. I stare down at the gorgeous ring he gave me. We’d been right here in this spot, and I squeeze my eyes shut, replaying the memory, trying to find the truth of me and him, in the memory…
He reaches in his pocket and produces a velvet box, and before I can react, he says, “You can’t be a fiancée without a ring.”
There’s a pinch of disappointment in my chest. This is not real. Of course, it’s not real. “Okay,” I murmur.
He opens the lid and a stunning, heart-shaped diamond glistens and glows inside. My gaze jerks to Damion. “I used to love hearts as a kid.” I laugh but it sounds choked, even to my ears. “It’s kind of appropriate but it seems extravagant for a fake fiancée, Damion.”
“Because it wasn’t meant for a fake fiancée, Alana. Five years ago, I got drunk and decided I could come back and get you. I chose the hearts because you always had them everywhere. You even drew them on me at one point.”
I can barely breathe. I can barely speak. “I—I don’t understand. We hadn’t talked and—”
He catches my chin and leans in and kisses me, his lips lingering against mine for long moments even after the kiss ends. “This is me telling you, Alana, I meant what I said earlier. I might not have said it until tonight, but you have always been it for me. Always.”
My heart swells, and I feel what I can almost call a sense of completion. Like he is a part of me I was missing, and now he’s here but I’m afraid to believe it’s true. I don’t really even understand what this is or why he’s saying it. I can feel more coming, and I find myself holding my breath, not sure what to expect.
“But you also need to know that the morning after I bought this ring, Alana, I came to my senses. I knew I was not good for you. I know it now, too, but when you’re standing in front of me, I can’t seem to give a damn. I am not good for you. You need to remember that. And if I get drunk and propose again, be smart and say no.” He cups my face. “And stop being stubborn and move in with me.”
My heart is happy and my brain a bit drunk on this conversation. “Why does it always feel as if you are standing in front of me but out of reach?”
“Because I’m always trying to protect you from me.”
“Alana.”
My eyes open to find Damion standing in front of me offering me a glass of whiskey. “I thought we could both use the strong stuff.”
It’s insane the way my heart leaps with his nearness, the way butterflies dance in my belly when I’ve known him my entire life. I accept the glass, the brush of our fingers jolting me, and I think I see the same reaction in his eyes. Or maybe, I just want to see the same in his eyes. I down the amber liquid, choking with the bite of the liquor. It’s warm in my belly and my apology is fast on my tongue. “I’m sorry. I should have never said that to you.”