Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 98755 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98755 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
“Me? Trouble?” He smirks. “He does still care.”
“Go and kiss and make up so I can have my girls’ night.”
Ford opens the front door, looming there with arms crossed over his chest, looking the part of a seriously pissed off dad as Felix, his cat, rubs against his legs. The two tolerate each other at best, and Ford is definitely not the cat’s favorite person.
Hawke basically bounces out of the car but leans down before closing the door. “I’m serious, though, little red. If you’re fucking that detective, you’re in deep trouble. I just don’t want to see you used or hurt.”
I’m actually surprised. Hawke is the last person I thought capable of feelings, especially when they have anything to do with romance. “You think I would give someone that much power?” I ask with a smile that seems to fill him with confidence in the situation.
“I’m just saying, people start doing crazy shit when they’re in love.” He says it so loudly I know it’s targeted at his brother. I’m laughing when he closes the door. I leave them to their sibling squabble as I pull away from the curb and head to Ivy and Billie’s apartment.
When I left Braxton’s place, I needed my girls. I can’t explain it. I’m not often dependent on people, but the feeling of going home after being with Braxton felt wrong.
I’m not even through the door when Billie throws a cozy hoodie and some sweatpants in my direction.
“You’re late. Strip. Mask on,” Ivy says, shaking a cocktail mixer in their kitchen.
Billie laughs wearing, a pink sweatsuit and a facemask. I do as they say, turning my back to them.
“Oh, gosh, why are you being so shy?” Billie asks.
“Shut up. I’m not wearing any underwear,” I grit.
“I’ve seen worse,” Ivy says, and I can hear the hint of a smile in her voice.
“Why were you late? You were supposed to be here an hour ago,” Billie says, far more softly than Ivy.
I know they’ve been waiting for me so we can watch the new thriller that just came out. I’m grateful to these two because they’ll often let me choose the movie, even if horror and thrillers aren’t their usual scene. Sometimes, we’ll soften the blow by watching a romantic comedy and end up more disgusted than with the blood and guts we’d see in my choices. Balance.
I readjust the clothes, which are slightly too big for me, at least in length. “There was a murder at a club, and I had to pick up Hawke from there. It’s the same club we were at a few weeks ago.” I make a pointed look at Ivy.
She gasps. “Oh shit! That doesn’t look good for him. Did the cops try to take him in?” she asks, handing me a cocktail. I take a sip and am almost swept away by the amount of alcohol.
“Jesus. Are you trying to kill me with one drink?”
“It’s girls’ night.” She shimmies her shoulders and takes a seat on the sofa. I follow suit. Billie is sitting with a bowl of popcorn in her lap, and an array of freshly baked sweets is spread out on the coffee table. Most likely cooked by Billie herself.
“And, no, I ‘removed’ Hawke from the situation before he could make it any worse.”
Ivy smirks, and Billie tries not to laugh. Yes, that’s classic Hawke. “He can’t be trusted now that he’s trying to go solo. He’s miserable.” I’m trying not to laugh as I say it.
Billie shrugs a shoulder. “I swear, I still give them plenty of brotherly bonding time.”
“Oh God, please don’t tell me they still shower together,” Ivy says, and then her mind immediately wanders off. “Then again… I’m not against that scene at all.”
Billie smacks her arm. “Hey, back off. No nasty thoughts of my man.”
Ivy’s laughing as she puts her hands up in surrender. “I’m joking. But not really. Speaking of men… Spill the beans, Hope.”
“Oh yeah, about the detective!” Billie chirps as she grabs a pillow. Fuck. I was really hoping I could avoid this topic. “What does your father think of it?”
“Stop!” I’m quick to say. “It’s not like that.”
“It certainly looked like it at the club,” Ivy murmurs as she takes a sip of her drink.
I sigh. “It was one kiss. I slept with him four years ago and didn’t know he was a detective.” I stop. “Wait, how do you know he’s a detective?”
Ivy looks away, and I growl. “Did Hawke spill that info, or were your magic little fingers working a keyboard?”
“I’ll have it known that my fingers are magical no matter what they touch. But, of course, I was curious as to who he was. I haven’t seen you into anyone before, and you were really into eating his face.”
Heat streaks my cheeks as I think not only of that kiss but the fact that I was with him not even two hours ago, being railed to within inches of my life. And allowing him to fuck me with a gun too. Fuck me, I’m so far gone.