Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 113130 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 566(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113130 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 566(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
“Guilty of moving in my sleep.” I smile as the ringing starts again. “I’m going to move if you don’t go and answer that door.” He kisses my neck before he walks out of the room and I close my eyes.
“What the fuck?” he yelps and then I hear the voice.
“What the fuck is right, Jaxon.” The sound of a woman’s screeching now fills the house.
“Oh my God,” I whisper to myself as I spring out of bed.
“I’ve been calling and calling all fucking night long!” she shouts, her voice getting louder and louder.
“And you would think if I don’t answer you, that would be a clear sign I don’t want to talk to you,” he retorts as I look around the room and start to gather my clothes. Reaching for my panties that are useless, I toss them to the side as I grab his T-shirt that is right near his built-in shelves. I slip my arm through before slipping the other one in as quietly as I can, hoping he gets rid of her. My heart speeds up in my chest as I reach out my hand to slide it over my head and knock over one of the books on his shelves. The book lands with a thud on the floor as I close my eyes and hope she didn’t hear it.
“Is someone here?” she asks him.
“That’s none of your business, Tiffany. Come back here!” he shouts and I hear the sound of footsteps on the stairs as I look right and left to see if there is anywhere I can hide. I look out of the glass window that faces the ocean and for a split second I contemplate jumping off his balcony. “You cannot just barge into my fucking house and go to my bedroom,” he warns, and when I look at the door, she walks in, wearing a pair of tight jeans and a short crop top.
“It’s not what it looks like,” I say and I want to cringe at myself.
“You are going to leave me for this cheap slut?” She turns and asks Jaxon, who I’ve never seen mad. But one look at him and I would cower in the corner.
He steps in front of her and he looks down at her and I take a step toward him, but stop when I hear his voice. “Get the fuck out of my house.” His voice is ice-cold. I don’t know if I should go to him or not. “This is the last time you come. The next time you even think of showing up, think again. I will not answer the door, I’ll be calling the cops and telling them someone is trespassing. You push it even more, I’ll ask to have a restraining order brought against you. I have all the text messages you’ve sent,” he seethes. “Now get the fuck”—he takes a step toward her—“out of my fucking house.”
“We’re fucking over,” she hisses at him. “I won’t take you back after this.” She glares at me. “Don’t get too comfortable,” she warns me, “before you know it, he’ll move on.”
My stomach lurches up as she storms out of the room. I close my eyes as I hear the door slam shut. “Are you okay?” I feel him next to me.
I open my eyes, seeing him look down at me, the worry all over his face. I shouldn’t let her words get to me, but they seep in. “I’m going to need a minute,” I answer him honestly before turning and walking into the bathroom, closing the door behind me, my forehead falling forward. “What the fuck did I do?”
thirteen
Jaxon
I watch her walk to the bathroom and hold my breath the whole time. Exhaling once it clicks behind her, I then run my hands through my hair and to the back of my neck before I look up at the ceiling. “What a clusterfuck,” I mumble out with a sigh. This is definitely not how I thought the morning would start. I look at the closed door and I get up and walk to it, stopping halfway. “Ariella,” I say her name softly, not waiting for her to answer me, “I’m going to go down and make you a coffee.”
“Okay.” Her voice comes out soft and I wish the door was open so I could see her. “I’ll be down in a second.”
I start to turn but then look back at the door. “Wait, are you allowed to have coffee?” I ask the closed door. “Is coffee good for the baby?” The worry now fills me. “From what I read online yesterday, when I went down to have a snack and you were resting,” I say to the door, “you should limit your caffeine intake.”
“I only have one coffee a day,” she says and I nod at the still closed door before I inhale deeply before walking out of the room and heading to the front door, locking it before I head to the kitchen. I move around, starting the coffee pot before I open the fridge and then shut it when I hear the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs. Walking out of the kitchen, I see her face and it looks like she’s been crying, and I couldn’t feel more like a piece of shit than I do right now. “Ari,” I say the nickname that I’ve called her a couple times over the years, “I’m so, so sorry. I wish I had other words to say to you, but sadly I don’t.”