Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 119184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 596(@200wpm)___ 477(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 596(@200wpm)___ 477(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
Nothing from Lena.
Fuck.
Honestly, I hadn’t expected much.
She’s been distant ever since our argument. We’re certainly not lovers pretending we’re madly in love, not when we’ve reverted to something much colder.
Even Queenie seems confused, dragging around my condo and sleeping when it’s not time for food or the park runs.
How the fuck do I fix it?
I wish I knew.
It’s a relief when the call ends and I log off, flicking through our messages over the last few days. The few evasive ones we’ve exchanged at all.
I’m not one of those guys who loves a challenge.
I don’t believe in playing hard to get or dicking around with tone games over a screen.
When I want a girl, I go out of my way to get her—so long as she wants me too.
Until our fight, I was sure she did.
Which makes this frosty, one-word-answer, back-and-forth bullshit that much more bewildering and maddening.
Something isn’t right.
And it’s that certainty that has me dialing her contact.
It’s a nice evening out there, which means she’ll probably be coming home if she isn’t out with Grandma Lark, gossiping in the kitchen or helping the old lady tend her garden.
The phone rings, and I think she’s not going to answer until the phone clicks and a small voice that doesn’t sound like Lena answers.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Sass. Just wanted to check in.” I flick the pen between my fingers.
“I’m not dying, Brady. You don’t need to worry.”
“We haven’t spoken for days.” I try to ignore the bitter voice in my blood demanding answers, but I can’t. “Fuck it, you know why I’m calling? Because I miss you.”
There’s a shuffling sound, and her breathing sounds heavier, like she was just outside and now she’s coming in.
I bet my Grandma Lark theory was right.
“. . . I miss you too,” she says, but the words feel forced. “But I thought you were working? You said you had a busy week.”
“Just finished for the day. What are you up to right now?”
“Mm, just trimming some flowers.”
“With Gran?”
“How did you know?”
“My awesome powers of deduction. Also, where else would you be using your green thumb?”
Silence.
“Do you need me somewhere again?” she asks flatly.
My jaw clenches.
“No. I need us to talk about the damn elephant in the room.”
“Talk about what?”
“What’s eating you, woman,” I say, no longer trying to be calm. If she needs me to squeeze it out of her like toothpaste, I will. “Don’t tell me it’s nothing. We both know that’s a lie.”
“I never said that,” she admits.
“What is it, then? You’re still sore at me for going after him? For overstepping my bounds?”
“Brady, it’s—it doesn’t matter.” She sighs, the sound crackling through the speaker.
“Like hell.”
“I mean it. That’s why I wanted space. You still don’t get that you don’t have to fix anything.”
“Are you still mad at me? Be honest.”
A hesitation. Just enough to feel it in my bones. “No.”
“So, talk to me. You’re not pissed, but you don’t want to talk to me or see me. Is it him? Is that fuck causing more trouble?”
“No,” she says sharply. “Not everything in my life revolves around men, past or present. Tricky concept, I know.”
I fight back a smile, grateful she’s showing a little sass, like her nickname.
“Not him. Then why do I smell it on your voice?” I say. “What’s he done now? Lena, be straight with me.”
“Dude, this isn’t about him, and even if it was, it’s not your business. It’s my job. How many times do we need to talk about this? The clinic deal has nothing to do with you or—” She stumbles, unable to say his name, and I know.
Total certainty.
Yeah, she might be lying to protect herself or even me, but that doesn’t change the facts.
He’s still coming for her, and that’s an open invitation for me to take out the trash.
I don’t like it one bit. The Lena who left my apartment ready to tear my head off would never hold back.
This Lena—she’s too quiet. Too unsure. Too afraid.
If this was only about me, she’d have said it to my face. She’d give me hell for breaking her trust and screwing up the sexy chaos we had.
Her silence now tells me there’s more to worry about than my own dumb mistakes. And whatever it is, I need to know.
“If it’s not Harry, then what?” I demand.
“I’m just having second thoughts about . . . about this whole thing, I guess. The Pawsome Hearts deal.”
What?
My chest squeezes.
That’s not what she would’ve said a week ago, and this change of heart has Harry Jay’s fingerprints all over it.
What the fuck did he do to her?
“I’m coming over.” I clench my fists and release them, trying to push that smarmy asshole’s face out of my head. “It’ll be easier to talk in person, assuming you’re—”
“There’s nothing to talk about! God. If you insist, fine.”