Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 123361 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 617(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 123361 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 617(@200wpm)___ 493(@250wpm)___ 411(@300wpm)
“Maybe I decided to save myself for marriage,” he murmured, taking a sip from the glass of brandy sitting next to him.
Staring at him dumbly, I shifted the dress on the hanger from one shoulder to the other.
“Usually you do that before sleeping with enough people to break a Guinness World Record,” I pointed out.
He finally lifted his eyes from the screen.
“Well, I’m an unorthodox guy. Better late than never.”
“I guess this is where our journey ends, then.” I put on a brave face, forcing myself to smile. Internally, I was shouting, “Merde, merde, merde” to the moon.
He was dumping me. I knew I was making things hard for him, but Sam never showed any signs of looking tired or distressed. If anything, he took our new game in a stride and always had that dangerous, mischievous glint in his eyes of a man entertained by having to work for it for a change.
“Guess so.” He took another sip of his drink, his eyes never wavering from mine. “Unless we get married.”
I threw my head back and laughed hysterically.
Get married. Us. Good one.
“Never gonna happen,” I provided.
“Unlikely,” he agreed. “You can still suck my cock every now and again, but sex is off the table.”
“That’s something I can live with,” I said with more conviction than I felt. “And thanks for the offer, but I’ll pass.”
He’d nodded.
“Have a great night at the Fishers’ charity ball.”
“How do you know that’s where I’m going?”
“I know everything about you, Nix, including where you take your lunches at work—the little backyard on a white bench—and what you eat—hope you enjoyed your oatmeal bar today.”
I didn’t dance with anyone at the charity ball.
I was nailed to my seat, punished, thinking about one thing—marriage.
After that night, Sam did seek me out again and we never went all the way anymore. Never clawed at each other’s clothes or had wild sex.
He showed up in places I went to but only enjoyed heavy petting and kissing. Every time I tried to stir him into full-blown sex territory, he would clap his hand over my wrist and say, “You can’t sample the goods anymore, Nix. You break it, you pay for it. Move in with me.”
“No.”
It went on and on and on, week in and week out, to a point where I wasn’t sure if I was not done hating him for what he’d done or if I was just enjoying the chase too much. It was entirely possible I lost myself somewhere in our game, and I didn’t know how to find my way back to what we were.
The truth was, I did want to move in with him.
I wanted to move in with him very badly.
Not because taking care of Mother was daunting—on the contrary, she had actually been quite okay, everything considered—but because I missed him terribly every time we were apart.
I was just afraid he was going to break my heart again, and this time, I knew I wouldn’t be able to mend it back to health.
Right now, we were in the twilight zone. On the edge of something deep but still with the possibility of swimming back ashore. I was afraid if I lost that edge, my resistance as a result of being pushed around by him, he would conquer what little I’d kept for myself, and it would be game over for me.
I think Sam knew it, too. That we were stuck in limbo, and we didn’t know how to stop. Even our families, who little by little began to see each other again for dinners, looked at us with puzzled bewilderment every time Sam treated me gently in public and I gave him the cold shoulder.
One day, when he came to my house to drop off some paperwork for Athair and stayed for coffee, he grabbed my hand from across the table and frowned.
“I don’t mind waiting, Nix. I just want you to know I appreciate you not coming to Badlands and defying me.”
“Defy you?” I yanked my hand away from him like he was made of fire, taking a slow sip of my too hot coffee. “How do you mean?”
“I asked you not to come to Badlands, and you agreed, even though I lifted the ban. I’m glad you still take directions well. You are an obedient girl deep down, aren’t you, sweetheart? You’ll be easy to manage.”
My blood bubbled with rage. So much so I didn’t take a second to decode his words or figure out if he was goading me, deliberately moving another piece in our chess game.
“I’m not easy to manage.” I stood up abruptly, yanking my coffee from the table. “And the only reason I haven’t showed up at Badlands yet was because of my workload. In fact, I think I’ll hit your club this weekend, just to get on your nerves.” I smiled, feeling much better about provoking him back.