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)
I want her and only her. I want our arrangement to be like it was. But I’m beginning to question if that’s all I want from her. I know I want more and can’t so easily walk away. And that makes me an asshole.
Life has kicked me in the ass more times than I can count. There’s no way in hell it’s going to be nice to me now. Then again, why has it ever had reason to?
I want the best for Billie, but I know it’s not me. I refuse to weigh her down.
I uncurl my hand and dangle her bracelet from my fingers, staring at it, mesmerized. I couldn’t help myself. If I can’t have her, I need something of hers instead.
CHAPTER 29
Billie
I’m lucky the walk home is long enough for me to get my emotions under control. I was so close to breaking Ford’s nose. The balls of that asshole. The mixed signals. The hot and cold. The everything. He’s fucking infuriating.
Half way home, I realize I dropped the bracelet my mother bought me for my graduation, which pisses me off even more. Today’s already shit.
I get to my apartment, flop onto the couch on my stomach, then try to numb my brain by watching TV. All I can think about is Ford, though. Every time he pops into my head, I swear and think up creative ways to get back at him.
I regularly check the time, reminding myself to prepare for my date tonight. I contemplated canceling, but then that would mean that Ford wins, and I’m not going to let another man dictate who I date. Especially Ford. He doesn’t get to have that kind of power over me anymore. I already have enough men in my life who think they can tell me what to do. I don’t bother changing my clothes, but I do swap out my sneakers for a pair of heels, then fix my hair before I walk out the door.
Matthew messaged me what restaurant to meet him at, and luckily, it’s not too far from where I live. When I arrive, I find him standing outside, speaking on his phone. He’s dressed similarly to how he was last weekend when I met him. Except today his suit is a nice blue that matches his eyes. When he notices me, he hangs up.
“Perfect timing.” He offers me his elbow and then guides us into the restaurant. He tells the hostess his name, and we’re led to a private area at the back. He pulls out my chair like a gentleman, and I thank him as I sit.
When he takes a seat, he orders a bottle of their finest wine. Despite not being a big wine drinker, I don’t bother to mention it as the waitress walks away.
“Did you get up too much today?” he asks, adjusting his tie. He’s attractive, but it feels like there’s something missing, and I can’t quite put my finger on it. Maybe it’s the man with the haunting, almost black eyes that I would prefer to be sitting across from me.
Fuck. Stop it. I chastise myself.
“I did, actually. I got a tattoo,” I say proudly. He scrunches up his nose before smoothing his expression. “You don’t like tattoos?”
He nervously chuckles as if he hadn’t meant to show his distaste. “Not particularly. I was raised with the belief that you don’t damage perfect skin.”
The waitress comes back with the wine, and I smile as she pours it for us. Then I take a sip of the bitter liquid.
“I was raised that it’s your body, your choice,” I reply.
“Yes, of course.” He doesn’t ask me what I got or where I got it. He actually changes the subject and then starts talking about the movie that we’ll be seeing after dinner. The meal is nice, and thankfully, the company isn’t too bad either. As the night goes on and the wine goes to my head, I stop thinking about Ford.
That is until Matthew finally asks me what tattoo I got. It pulls me straight back to the tattoo parlor. Straight back to Ford’s hands all over me. In true Ford fashion, he’s interrupting my one experience of what seems like an ordinary date. And he’s not even here.
“Sorry, what?” I ask as he offers me his hand when we stand to leave.
“You said earlier you got a tattoo, but you didn’t say what it was.”
“Oh, yeah. Sorry. It’s just a small heart.”
“Nice. And where on your body did you get it?” He looks me over. “I don’t see it.”
I wait until he pays for the meal, and we’re outside to tell him. “That’s because you would have to remove my clothes to see it.” He stops in his tracks.
“Remove your clothes?” he questions. I nod, smiling at the way he says it like it’s an option. “Well, that just made the night more interesting. Now I’m going to be wondering where I can find a small heart.” He winks.