Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 120186 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 601(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120186 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 601(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
Kade never pleads or begs for anything. That’s not him. Yet he’s begging right now. For me to see how much he loves me, wants me, wants a future, and instead of telling him that I feel the same, that I want him, I’m breaking his heart.
“There’s no point in fighting for us. What we had was great, but it was never going to last. It was temporary. Just two people having some fun.”
Kade flinches, physically flinches as if my words wound him. His hands fall from my shoulders, and I already miss his touch.
Miss the warmth. Miss the branding of his fingers on my skin.
“Two people having some fun? Temporary?” he whispers in bewilderment, anger building in his blue eyes. “You told me you loved me. Said you wanted to be with me. That’s not two people having some fucking fun.”
It’s my turn to flinch, and I do. Suddenly, the cab of his truck feels too small. “I made a mistake. I didn’t mean it. I was caught up in lust.”
Kade shakes his head, and a hollow laugh escapes him. “You made a mistake.” He grits the words through his teeth, and I can see just how close to losing it he is. “It was only lust? You didn’t mean it?”
“I know you’re hurt, and I’m sorry, but we both knew it was never going to be anything more than a fun time. You’re the one who made sure I knew that to begin with, remember?”
“Stop!” he yells, and I feel my heart sink into my stomach. “Stop lying to me. Stop with the bullshit.”
“It’s not bullshit. I just—can’t be with you.”
I shake my head and force the memory of that night away and all the feelings I’ve refused to sort out back into the darkest corner of my brain. It is not the time to open old wounds. I won’t have the courage to face him if all I can see is the hurt in his eyes from that night. I look back at the bar and stare up at the flickering neon sign.
Maybe I should go inside.
It would save me waiting out here in the cold for him. No. Bad idea. Going inside means facing public humiliation when he inevitably tells me to fuck off, and unfortunately, I’ve reached my limit on that for the evening.
So I wait. Minutes tick by as I sit in the car and watch men in jeans and work boots stumble in and out of the bar, some of them a little more unbalanced than others. None of them has been Kade Bishop, though.
My anxiety ramps higher the longer I wait, my lungs tightening to the point of pain, acting as if they have no access to oxygen.
Breathe, Allie. Just breathe.
I didn’t think it would be this difficult to talk to him again. I mean, he’s probably moved on, right? Probably forgotten all about me? Maybe he’s not even mad anymore.
I doubt it.
The door to The Rusty Nail slams open again, and when I spot the man exiting, my heart lurches inside my chest.
Kade.
He’s always been beautiful in a rough, dangerous sort of way. The kind of beauty that makes good girls do stupid things.
I give him a once-over, allowing myself to stare. He’s still beautiful—and huge. Built like a tank, his broad shoulders stretch his jacket, and his hands are capable of holding or breaking you apart, depending on his mood. Moonlight slides across his face and pulls me under. His jaw is strong and shadowed, his cheekbones sharp in the muted light. Dark lashes frame tired blue eyes, and his mouth is set in a firm, unreadable line.
A stray lock of dark brown hair falls across his forehead, and the urge to reach out and fix it leaves me caught. Breathless.
Something inside me snaps when his gaze lands on my car. Shit. His confident stride shortens, and he stops dead in his tracks. Shit, he’s going to bolt. I can’t let that happen.
With a trembling hand, I grab the door and bite back a curse at the nerves and lust swirling in my core. Only Kade has this effect on me.
With an exhale, I launch myself out of the car.
Our gazes collide across the parking lot, and time seems to slow. I feel vulnerable, like a bug beneath a microscope under his gaze. Neither of us says anything. I’m halfway across the lot when he moves toward his truck again. Fucking hell.
“Hey!” I yell, desperation sharpening my tone. “I need to talk to you for a second!”
He stops again, and the dust of the gravel catches the light around his boots. Why does it feel like I’m walking toward my own funeral? I know the answer to that question, but I’m not here to unpack it. Kade and I are nothing more than history. He turns to face me once I’m a couple of feet away. I swallow the gasp that rises at getting a look at him up close.