Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 108721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
BEL: Are you coming to dinner, or am I just eating alone?
I squeeze my eyes shut for all of a second and shake my head at myself. Fucking shit. I forgot we were supposed to meet for an early dinner. How the fuck did I forget? I spin the blade around in my hand to point the sharp edge down my forearm and type out a quick response.
ME: Be there in ten.
When I turn my attention back to the guards, I stare them down. I really want to fuck with them a little, scare ’em, teach them a lesson, but right now, I need to get to my dinner date with Bel. I hate that I forgot and that she's been waiting. That's not like me at all.
“Get your asses back to work. I’ll be checking in with both of you later,” I announce, checking my watch before I step out of the room.
All I can do is shake my head in disappointment, mainly toward myself. My fixation with her has backfired on me. While I accomplished avoiding her for the most part, I’ve failed in other areas. I’ve missed big things going on right under my own nose and in my own fucking house. Now I’m late for a dinner that I set up. I barely recognize myself right now.
I jog down the hall and toward the exit leading to the garage.
It only takes a minute to hop in the car and speed down the drive to the gate. Once on the road, I slam my foot on the gas. There's little-to-no traffic since everyone is finishing classes. I make it to the restaurant in minutes and leave the car with a valet. We come here often, even Ely, since they have a great to-go coffee counter next to the bar. It’s also close to campus, so it’s not a surprise to see a good number of students sipping coffee and sharing a meal.
The hostess opens her mouth to greet me, but I shake my head. “The person I’m with already has a table.” I find Bel in my line of sight as I peer over the woman's shoulder.
Bel looks up from the table and right at me, her face lighting up instantly. When I reach the table, she shoves herself up and out of her chair and wraps her arms around me, engulfing me in a tight hug. I hug her back, allowing myself to enjoy her touch. Ever since I found out Bel was my sister, small parts of my heart that I was certain would never beat again did just that. Supporting her and caring for her throughout our mother’s death brought us closer.
It was because of Bel that I felt I had a purpose. She needed me, and I needed her so fucking much. She just didn’t know it.
When she pulls away, I apologize, “Sorry I'm late. I've been distracted.” My watch tells me she's been waiting fifteen more minutes since she texted me.
“It’s okay. No big deal. It just surprised me since you’re hardly ever late.” She waves me off and twirls the glass in her hand, sending the coffee and cream mixture swirling with the ice and straw. “I ordered you a whiskey, but I think maybe you should drink some water instead. How much have you had to drink today? You smell like a distillery.”
I ignore the way she wrinkles her nose at me, fighting against the prevailing anger building in my gut at her judgment. “You're not my babysitter, Bel. I don't need you to dictate when and what I can drink or eat.”
I don't need to look at the menu, so I just wait for the server to return. She glances between us, at me in my Armani suit and Bel in ripped-up jeans and a hoodie with the Oakmount logo printed on the front. I can already see the questions in her mind, but she doesn’t ask anything, thankfully. She takes our orders quickly before heading back to the kitchen.
The restaurant is pretty busy, and there's a short line at the coffee stand a few feet away. “How many cups of coffee have you had?”
It's her turn to narrow her eyes. “You're not my babysitter, Sebastian,” she mocks, using the same tone I used on her.
“Fine. I get that you’re worried about me, but you have nothing to worry about. I didn’t come to dinner so that I could argue with you. I just wanted to share a meal and spend some time together. Can we do that?”
She blinks at me slowly as if asking, can we? “Sure. We can do whatever you want.”
Her tone still holds a smidge of attitude, but I decide to ignore it and move on.
“Okay, so you said you wanted to talk about something?”
She ducks her chin to her chest like she’s insecure, and I watch her carefully. “Yes. I’ve been thinking about it for a while, and I want to see if I can find my dad. My real dad, that is. Find out who he is…and if he wants to meet me.”