Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 99381 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99381 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 331(@300wpm)
“For fuck’s sake, why do I only get anything out of you when it comes to food?” he growls and hands the box back to me. I back up, my temper quickly receding as my stomach simmers contently.
“I’m going to congratulate the happy couple. And I mean it—you two are done,” he says.
I run a hand through my hair, knowing too well he’s right. We got off by sheer chance this time, but it was too fucking close. I’d become reckless. I open the box and then bite into the first cookie, immediately satisfied by the sugar hit.
And I’m not at all surprised when my phone buzzes with an unknown number.
Unknown Number: I’m sorry I freaked out. But we have to stop. I’m sorry.
My jaw clenches, and I have no right to be annoyed by it. It was only ever sex.
I just didn’t think it would impact me like this.
CHAPTER 4
Billie
Two months ago
It’s our Sunday family dinner, and I have a pleasant buzz going after downing my first drink until Hawke and Ford walk in.
I haven’t seen Ford since that day at Dutton’s house. After Bentley’s birthday party and Dutton proposing to Posie, I’ve tried my hardest to fly under the radar. This is the first time I’ve been home in months, and I didn’t realize my mother had extended the invitation to so many. But it shouldn’t come as a surprise.
It might not be so distracting if Hope and Ivy had come back to Manhattan as well. They’re both busy with their own studies, and Hope is at a showing of her sculptures in Russia. The girl is crushing it for only being twenty-two. I’m almost two years older, and still unsure if the degree I’m going to school for even makes my heart sing.
I didn’t start college until I was twenty because I wasn’t sure it was the correct path for me, so I traveled instead. My family was supportive of my choice, but I realized the expectations placed on Dutton weren’t the same as me. Then again, Dutton defined his own path and self-expectations as to how he’d contribute to the family.
Sometimes I feel guilty for not doing the same, even though our parents reminded us time and time again we could choose whatever path we wanted. And I’m still not entirely sure if accounting is what I want. Sometimes, I think I’d prefer baking, like my mother, since I’m good at it, but even then, I don’t know if it excites me as much as it does her.
“Earth to little tornado.” Hawke snaps his fingers in front of me, and I blink back into focus.
“Did you only come for the food?” I ask him and daringly look over his shoulder at his brother. Fuck, he looks good. He always does. And he still hasn’t looked up from his phone since arriving. But that’s not surprising in the slightest.
Everyone’s already done eating and is now lounging around in conversation. Dutton and Posie are quietly talking to my parents, Alina and Will, about the upcoming wedding. And no offense to my brother, but I don’t want to be a part of any conversation when he turns into a groomzilla, which is how I wound up in the same room as these two.
But we were friends before, so I shake off the imposing tension.
“Don’t I always come for the food?” Hawke says sheepishly. It goes without saying that Ford comes for the sweets.
I’m grateful he hasn’t brought up what he walked in on in Dutton’s kitchen and that he doesn’t act any differently toward me because of it.
“Do either of you want a drink?” I offer and place a tray of cookies down on the table in the middle of one of our living spaces. The deep, comfortable sofas and rich wooden tones make the room warm and inviting. I love my parents’ home. Down the hall is my room—my sanctuary when I’m home from college—which, might I add, no boy has ever entered because of a certain overprotective brother.
Ford immediately kicks off the wall, where he was casually leaning, to make a beeline to the cookies. He finally glances at me, and I feel the air leave my lungs as those almost black eyes take me in. He’s silent as he grabs a cookie off the tray. And then two more before he retakes his spot, holding up the wall and staring at his phone.
He’s always on his phone.
What is he doing on there?
Is he messaging someone?
A phone rings, and Hawke smiles as he looks down at his screen. “If you’ll excuse me, I need your bathroom for a moment.”
I frown. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“He’s been having phone sex with some chick,” Ford says around a cookie.
I stare after Hawke. He really is a manwhore with no shame. I tuck a piece of my long hair behind my ear. Fuck, being in the same room as Ford creates a palpable tension. We never spoke about what happened, and he never replied to my text.