Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75457 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75457 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
I see the person I confided in. He knows every teenage secret I kept hidden from the world. He knows my dreams. He’s heard my fears.
I scan his face, noticing the light beard covering his jaw and the cut of his hair. It’s different.
He’s different.
There was always kindness in his gaze. It was a beacon to me when I needed it the most, but it disappeared that day on the street corner not far from where we are now. In its place, I see disappointment and the same flash of confusion I saw right before he walked away from me.
His arms cross his chest, luring my gaze to his biceps. Molly was right. He fills out a suit jacket better than he used to.
“Yes,” he says as he scans my face. “I do.”
I shake my head. “You deserve nothing.”
With darkness in his eyes, his jaw tightens. “I have a few things I need to say to you.”
I don’t trust my shaking legs to support me if I try and flee, but I need to have faith they will because I can’t stand here a second longer. “I’m leaving.”
“You’re not.” His hand latches onto my wrist as I try and pass him. “Hear me out, Sin.”
The nickname is too intimate for this moment. He doesn’t have the right to use it anymore. Only the people who love me, who would never leave me, get to use it.
I yank myself free of his grasp. “Don’t call me that. You don’t get to call me that ever again.”
A ghost of a smile skates over his lips. “I’ve always called you that.”
The slight slur in those words lures my gaze to his. I take a second to study his eyes. I see a mirror image of what I saw ten years ago when he stole four bottles of beer from his older brother’s room.
We were fifteen and thought drinking under a tree in Central Park would be a fun way to spend a Saturday night. I poured out my bottle into the grass little by little with each of my pretend sips.
Jameson pounded back the other three beers in less than an hour.
I had to call Kalon to help me get Jameson to his feet. Since Kalon’s parents’ penthouse bordered Central Park, we were able to sneak Jameson into Kalon’s bedroom, where he spent the night on the floor, sleeping off the beers.
“You’re drunk,” I accuse with a pointed finger in his face.
I know all about how that means I have three fingers pointed back at my drunk self, but I’m pissed that Jameson seems to think he deserves anything from me.
He smirks. “You’re drunk.”
It may not be mature, but it’s sadly accurate.
I start walking off the terrace toward the ballroom, where people are gathering around the dance floor.
“Sinclair.” My name snaps off Jameson’s tongue as if poison is coating it. “Dammit, you need to listen to me.”
I turn around to find him staring at me. “I don’t need to do anything. Do you know why? You’re a selfish jerk.”
“I’m a selfish jerk?”
He frames it as a question. That pulls a bark of nervous laughter from me.
His brow furrows. “Why are you laughing? You fucked me over, Sin. You might as well have picked up a knife and stabbed it right through my back and into my heart.”
Tears approach, but I bite them back with a deep sigh. “What the hell is wrong with you? You’re the one who stabbed me in the heart.”
He steps closer, his body shadowing mine. I look up and into his face. All I see is pain. It’s the same pain I feel.
“I didn’t do anything to you,” he slurs. “I asked for one thing, Sin. One thing, and you let me down.”
He waves one finger in the air to emphasize his point.
“Is everything all right out here?” Molly’s voice comes from somewhere behind me. “Do I need to remind you two that this is a wedding? It’s a celebration, so try and control yourselves.”
I turn to find her standing next to Kalon.
He raises a hand to greet me, but his gaze is set on Jameson’s face. “Let’s go, James. It’s been a long day.”
Jameson brushes past me. The side of his hand meets mine for the briefest of moments. It’s enough to send a shiver through me.
I don’t say a word as I watch him walk past Kalon and Molly.
“I’m going to save us a prime spot to watch the first dance.” Molly smiles. “Meet me in a minute, okay?”
“Okay,” I whisper. “I’ll be right in.”
She turns to walk away. I expect Kalon to do the same, but he steps closer to me.
He’s changed too. His brown hair is shorter than it used to be. His three-piece suit seems misplaced, given that I remember him best in a football uniform.