Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 115308 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115308 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
“You have more influence with him than you know, Maia.”
Bolstered by Ainsley’s confidence, I crossed my arms over my chest to singe him with my fiery gaze. “I’m driving you crazy? I’m not the one who needed picking up from A&E!”
He gestured to his bandage-wrapped right ankle. His leg was also covered in bruises and road rash because he’d been wearing those stupid chino shorts while arsing around on a motorbike at high speed. “It’s just a sprain.”
“Oh, yeah, well, explain that to your gaffer.” I shook my head at him. “What’s next, Baird? Partying, drugs, and women too? Are we back here again so soon?”
His dark eyes flashed, and he pointed a finger at me. “Don’t. I told you I wouldn’t do that shit and I meant it. It fucks me off you’d even think that.”
“It fucks me off that you could have been killed tonight.”
Baird’s expression turned boyish and pleading. “My, it was just a wee accident.”
“Aye? Or did you go out and do the most moronic thing you could think of doing because Freddie got injured in training today?”
I watched him freeze, his expression turning wary and distant.
I hated that look. It was so not Baird.
My shoulders slumped and I took a step toward him, my tone placating. “Bear … you need to deal with this. You need to face the fact that you’re not dealing with how much last year’s injury impacted you.”
That muscle in his jaw ticked, the sudden ice chips in his eyes warning me off. “My therapist cleared me.”
“Was that before or after you started doing life-endangering bullshit just to prove you’re not terrified?” I asked, my tone gentle.
He flinched and then scoffed. It was an ugly, grating sound. “Me?” He took a limping step toward me. “I’m not the one who’s terrified, My. I’m not the one who pushes anyone away who gets close. Who actually got engaged to a guy because he wasn’t interested in getting close to her.”
His words were like a punch to the gut. “Baird.”
“I live, babe. You just exist.”
Angry that he was deflecting (and doing it with some harsh truths), I let my hurt and Ainsley’s earlier suggestion guide me. “Maybe I have been too cautious. That’s true. Maybe I’ve tried to control everything a wee bit too much because I know what it’s like to live a life where you have no control,” I reminded him, and he winced again, his remorse clear.
But I wasn’t done. Ainsley was right. Sometimes you had to be cruel to be kind to shake someone out of their destructive spiral. “There is a difference between living life to the fullest and recklessly trying to prove to yourself that your mortality doesn’t scare the shit out of you. I’m asking you to think of the people who care about you.”
He’d grown paler, his features taut, as my words hit their target.
I’d expected my Baird to make an appearance. For him to soften.
But pointing out his fear only pissed him off.
As it turned out, easygoing Baird McMillan could skewer a woman with his words. “I gave up the partying, the drinking, and other women for you for the next three months. For this fucking campaign of yours. But you don’t get to tell me how to live my life beyond that. You’ve made it pretty fucking clear this past week that what we have is fake, so you need to remember that. You don’t want anyone to get close to you, fine. Goes both ways. So don’t come at me with your bullshit amateur psychological analysis because I’m not the one who needs fucking therapy, Maia. I’m not the one who is going to end up alone and unloved!”
Stupid tears burned my eyes as I held back my physical gasp of pain at his words.
Everything these past few weeks … I’d been living in a goddamn dream world.
I knew it.
I knew if I let myself feel that way about him that he’d hurt me.
A bitter laugh escaped me as I looked back at him. Baird’s expression had slackened, but I wasn’t paying attention. I couldn’t see or hear anything beyond what he’d just said.
“You know what I can’t believe … that for a second I actually thought something real was happening between us.” I scoffed, blinking back the tears. “But I was right the first time, wasn’t I? You flirt and you’re casually affectionate and you make someone believe that you … you … but now I know what you really think of me. And the funny thing is … I did let you in more than I’ve ever let anyone in. So, thank you. Thank you for letting me know that you’re just another person I can add to the list of people who believe I’m unlovable.” I stepped toward the front door.