Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 77344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Hell, most of the time, I barely recognized my own feelings, let alone analyzed them to understand their roots. I damn sure never shared my feelings with some random guy I’d hooked up with.
And that was all men had ever been to me.
Hook-ups. Even the ones that lasted weeks or months; the only use I had for them was fun and casual. Just mutually satisfying sex that scratched that itch that didn’t want to be ignored anymore.
Men sure as hell were never anything I took seriously enough to actually want to open up to, to share my thoughts, fears, history, or future plans with.
The second I even got an inkling that one of them might be catching feelings, I was quick to put an end to things.
I didn’t want that.
But I had to admit to myself, as I grabbed my pants and panties and made my way into the bathroom, this was already different from those men in my past.
Because I’d already opened up to Miko. I told him parts of my past, my present, my future. He’d seen me at some of my most vulnerable. He knew some of my habits, my likes, and dislikes. All before things even started to get a little physical between us.
“Get over it,” I told my reflection.
The woman staring back at me looked different. Sure, the bruises were kind of darker than they’d been earlier that day—though there was that telltale green and yellow around the edges that said they were already starting to heal—but my skin was flushed, my eyes dreamy, and, yep, still a little teary.
I sucked in a deep breath, watching until my eyes went blank again.
This didn’t have to be a big deal.
We were both adults.
We’d both had casual interactions with the opposite sex. Heat-of-the-moment physical touch didn’t mean anything. Nothing had to be awkward.
At least that was what I was telling myself as I moved back out of the bathroom.
Just in time to hear Miko’s door click closed. Quietly. Like he was trying not to be heard.
Suspicions piqued, I rushed to my own door, glad I was between him and the elevator, so I could look through the peephole and watch a warped, mini version of him make his way in that direction. But not before casting a worried look at my door.
What the fuck was he up to?
I mean, there was no way he could expect to sneak out and drive back to the city without me noticing, so it couldn’t have to do with his bosses or anything like that.
Which only meant one thing: he was leaving to do something that had to do with the diamond heist.
Without me.
Well, we would see about that.
I was never good at sitting on my hands while someone else did all the work.
I rushed to my duffle, shoving some of the essentials into the small purse I’d packed, sliding my feet into my shoes, and then rushing out into the hall.
I went past the elevator, sights set on the stairwell, so I didn’t run into Miko while I tried to figure out what he was up to.
I pushed open the stairwell door just in time to watch Miko move out the front doors, making a beeline for his car.
That fucker.
I rushed behind him, putting my finger to my lips so the doorman didn’t greet me. I didn’t want Miko to cause a scene in front of everyone. I just wanted to rush behind him and get to the car just a second behind him.
That was exactly what I did.
He bleeped the locks and climbed in as I ducked low and rushed up the passenger side.
I whipped open the door and jumped in before his head even had a chance to whip over and see me.
“Get out.”
Oh, he was all businesslike and bossy right then.
I was annoyed at myself for thinking that was hot.
“Absolutely not.”
“Max, I don’t have time for this.”
“And yet you’re still sitting here,” I said, shrugging as I reached to clip in my seatbelt.
“Max, seriously. Get out.”
“You’re gonna have to drag me out,” I told him, chin lifting.
He watched me for a second, a frustrated muscle ticking in his jaw as he came to the right conclusion. That in a battle, I would out-stubborn him every damn time. And take pleasure in it.
“You’re a pain in the ass, sugar, just so you know.”
“Oh, I am fully aware,” I agreed as he turned over the car, shifted into reverse, and whipped out of his spot so quickly that my arm flew up to grab the ‘Oh, shit’ bar.
I wasn’t so distracted by him trying to sneak out that I didn’t realize this was the best possible thing that could have happened. It immediately forced away any potential awkwardness that might have come from the little incident back in my hotel room.