Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 51131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 256(@200wpm)___ 205(@250wpm)___ 170(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 256(@200wpm)___ 205(@250wpm)___ 170(@300wpm)
He nods slowly like he’s mulling over my words.
Maybe I’m not as smart as I think I am because I feel an actual spark of hope that he’ll be a decent human being and see reason for once in his life.
Then he opens his mouth and douses it. “And why should I give a single fuck about their happiness?”
My eyebrows rise and fall. “Um… I don’t really know how to answer that. They’re our parents. Don’t you want them to be happy?”
He shrugs. “Their happiness isn’t my responsibility.”
Shoving down the surge of irritation he’s triggering, I state, “No one is saying it’s your responsibility, Landon, but they can’t live together and be happy together if you and I can’t find a way to get along.”
He shrugs again, more deliberately. “Not my problem.”
“Actually, it kind of is.” I really wanted to be nice to him when I walked in here, but he’s being such an infuriating asshole that my patience snaps. “We’re moving in here whether you like it or not. And they’re going to be happy whether you like it or not. I personally refuse to let you ruin this good thing they have going with your bullshit. If you want to be an ass and sit here alone by yourself instead of coming out to dinner with us, that’s your choice, but I think it’s a really shitty one.”
“Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I don’t want to be a part of your stupid family? Maybe I don’t want to play house with my dad’s latest lay.”
I stiffen. “My mom is a great person, Landon. She will love you if you let her. I have already said I’m willing to put aside our differences and start over. This is happening whether we like it or not. There’s no reason it has to be so contentious.”
“No reason, huh?”
He stands, and I unconsciously take a step back.
He smirks and walks closer.
I fight the instinct to back away again. I don’t want him to come any closer, but he clearly knows that, which is why he is.
I still think he’s the most aggravating human on the planet, but when he closes in on me like this, I lose my grip on all my valid reasons for wanting to bitch at him and find myself fighting just to stand my ground. “I don’t want things to be like this between us, Landon.”
“I’m hearing a lot about what you want, Parker,” he says slowly, stopping in front of me. “What about what I want?”
I don’t like being this close to him. I shift my weight and subtly take a step back—not retreating, just moving so I don’t feel as cornered. “What do you want?” I ask him.
“I want you and your gold-digging mother to stay the fuck out of my life,” he says simply.
My hands clench into fists at my sides. “My mom is not a gold digger. You don’t know her yet, but when you get to know her, you will see she couldn’t care less about your dad’s money. It’s your dad she likes.”
“Yeah, sure it is.”
“It is, Landon.” I look up at him, giving up my annoyance and softening since I know he’s too much of an asshole to ever back down if I’m determined to butt heads. “Come to dinner with us,” I implore, my tone a little cajoling. “It’s just dinner. You have to eat, don’t you?”
He holds my gaze for a moment wordlessly, then he lets me watch as his drops, moving slowly over my body and lingering in the most offensive places. My spine stiffens, and I look away. I know he’s just trying to make me uncomfortable. I don’t want him to see how well it’s working, but I can’t seem to help it.
Once he’s raked over every inch of my body, his gaze returns to mine, a glint of dark amusement in his eyes. “You want me to come to dinner with you?”
It’s a trap, I can feel it. “Yes,” I say, anyway.
“Say please.”
I suck in a breath at the demand, but it’s not the words at this moment that steal my breath away.
It’s when he said them before, the night he broke into my house.
When I was hysterical, sobbing on one side of my bedroom door with him on the other side, threatening to break it down.
Threatening much worse when he got inside.
Stop, I begged, crying.
Say please, he taunted, dragging his fingers down the door.
I didn’t say please, and he didn’t stop.
I hid in my closet and called the cops, and the few minutes it took them to get there and drag him out of my house were the longest and most terrifying of my entire life.
I’m frozen in place by the unpleasant memory, distracted enough that when I look up and he’s right on top of me, my heart sinks with fear.