Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 88262 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88262 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
The light probably looked ten times better in here during the daytime now.
I glanced over at the kitchen again as we walked past it and noticed another telltale sign of Draven. There were more than a few bottles of whiskey near the edge of the countertop, in various states of fullness.
He stopped to grab a glass that was half full of amber liquid before continuing on down the hall.
So you drink whiskey after a workout and shower. No wonder you made fun of my electrolytes.
He continued briskly down the hall, but I paused at the start of it, watching him.
“Why were you so freaked out about the DMs you saw earlier? How did you know that particular guy would be a problem?”
He stopped and turned, looking me up and down. “Just a hunch.”
“Bullshit.”
“Listen, I don’t know the difference between that guy and any other, but his commenting history was vile.”
“You were looking through things that thoroughly?”
He furrowed his brow. “I’m not fucking around, Max. You’re not getting hurt on my watch.”
He turned and disappeared into the bedroom. I let out a sigh, frustrated all over again.
I didn’t know why Draven had decided to take me on as his pet project. Why he wasted his time on me.
Why a guy like him would have any interest in me at all was incomprehensible, but somehow, he kept showing up.
I’d had girlfriends in the past who hadn’t paid this much attention to me.
I found him in the bedroom, kicking back on his bed with the glass of whiskey in his hand. If he’d looked like a Greek god in the entryway, he looked like a splayed out king in here. Sitting lazily up against his tall, carved headboard, sipping liquor, his pecs, abs, and biceps still prominent even when he was relaxing.
Two dim lights flanked each side of his bed.
When he looked at me like that I felt like I was his possession. And the worst part about it was that I liked that feeling. I felt drawn to the empty spot on the bed next to him.
If I got in there beside him, would he finally let me kiss him?
Or was that still off limits?
I watched his lips, craving him like a drug all over again, but I pulled myself back to reality. I wanted to get into bed with him, but…
I had things to sort out before that.
“You going to finally tell me?”
His eyes were like liquid silver as he met my gaze. “No.”
“You’re such an asshole.”
“Keeping my privacy isn’t being an asshole.”
“You said you were going to tell me about your life. What changed?”
“I remembered why it’s never going to happen. Like I said, privacy.”
“Yet you want access to my security cameras? Since when do you care about privacy?”
“I care about preventing you from getting killed, Max.”
I let out a frustrated sigh and popped off my backwards hat, tossing it onto one of the nightstands beside the bed. I ran my fingers through my hair, closing my eyes shut for a moment before looking back at Draven again.
“Yeah. And I don’t fucking understand that, either.”
“What?”
“Why it’s any of your business keeping me from getting killed or whatever the hell you’re so obsessed with. I got along on my own just fine for 22 years before you got here, Draven—”
“22 years, huh? You protected yourself when you were an infant?”
I rolled my eyes. “You know what I mean. I know I’m younger than you, and I know I’ve never traveled to a big city or been on an airplane or been in trouble like you. But I’m not helpless.”
“Not helpless. But you sure are too fucking trusting.”
“Haven’t trusted you since the moment I met you.”
He shook his head as he took another long sip of whiskey. “Even of me. That first night, you believed me the moment I said I was Lily’s boyfriend. I could have been lying. I could have been anyone.”
I clenched my jaw. “And you still could be. You won’t tell me what the hell happened in Montana—”
“I did things I shouldn’t have, Max,” he interjected. “And other people did, too. End of story. I was responsible for… too many things.”
“You were responsible for other people? Do you have some sort of estranged child, Draven?”
He puffed out a hollow laugh. “No.”
He got up from the bed, standing tall again, polishing off the remaining whiskey in his glass at an alarming rate. He set the glass down on the nightstand, gently moving my white ball cap to the side.
“Whatever. You don’t want to tell me shit. You certainly don’t owe me shit. Give me a blanket and I’ll go sleep in the back of my truck tonight, if you’re so concerned about me going home alone.”
“There was a kid,” Draven finally said, pacing over to one edge of the room. “Not my kid, but somebody else’s kid. He was at my party, when he shouldn’t have been.”