Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 103431 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 517(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103431 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 517(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
At least the ones I can. I may be out of my league with my stalker, but I can handle my jackass of an ex any day.
But first I need to text his angel of a fiancée and let her know shit has officially hit the fan. Don’t get me wrong, I understand why Atlas doesn’t like me. Who wants their ex around all the time? I guess I thought he felt the same way I did about us—apathetic at best. And maybe he did, before Nora was taken.
Nora’s always been the peacekeeper of our group, and until recently, I thought her efforts were in vain. But here I am, essentially playing house with Ellis freaking Wilder. These are strange days, that’s for sure. Especially because I agree with Ellis—Atlas absolutely went too far.
I was ready for Ellis to side with Atlas. Hell, I was expecting him to. They're best friends after all. So, imagine my surprise when he jumped to my defense...
If I'm being honest, I'm pretty sure I have whiplash from how fast things have been changing between us.
In the span of a week, we’ve gone from being at each other’s throats, to cuddling when we sleep, sharing secrets, and Ellis being willing to literally put his life on the line for me.
My brain can hardly process it.
File all of this away for later, Scar, I think as the end of Ellis's long, tree-lined drive comes into the view.
I park in the same spot as last night, leaving room for his beast of a truck, which pulls in right behind me. “Welcome to your new home, Ms. Fluffington,” I murmur, as I unbuckle my seatbelt and grab her carrier before exiting my car.
“I'll get you a key made later today,” Ellis says, striding past me toward the front door.
“Thanks,” I whisper, suddenly shy.
“C'mon, I'll show you your room.”
“My room?” I rush to keep up with him. “You mean I’m not sleeping on the couch.”
“Nah. There're three bedrooms. One is a home gym and the other's a guest room.”
I don't even know why I'm surprised. His house is neat, tidy, and well-decorated. It's a far cry from the messy, man-cave, bachelor pad I expected it to be.
But I guess that's just Ellis... full of surprises. He’s kind of like an onion—layered.
I crack up at my own dumb analogy.
“What's so funny, Princess?”
“I was comparing you to Shrek in my head,” I blurt out before I can think better of it.
His lips kick up in a sexy little grin. “Shrek really?”
I shrug.
“I've always thought of myself as more of a Donkey kind of guy?”
“Why? Because you're an ass?”
“Oh, you're on a roll, aren't you?” He whistles low. “No, because he's fucking hilarious, loyal as hell, and pulled a literal fire breathing baddie for a wife.”
“Who knew you had such big Shrek opinions?”
He tsks. “Of course I do. I have big opinions on most shows and movies. Stick around long enough, and maybe I’ll share ‘em with you.”
His words zing through me, the thought of sticking around all too tempting. “So, about that guest room?”
He gives me a look like he knows exactly what I’m thinking before nodding toward the hall. “Last door on the left. C’mon.”
My heart does a funny little pitter patter in my chest as I follow him down the hall.
“Here we go.” He nudges open the door, and I gasp.
“It’s beautiful.” The walls are painted a soft purple-y gray, which perfectly complements the dark wood furniture. The bed’s situated against the far wall, between two windows, and piled high with a fluffy white duvet and a whole pile of soft looking pillows. “This room clearly has a woman’s touch.”
The tips of my ears burn as I wish I could hit rewind and swallow down those words. Way to sound desperate, Scarlet.
“Yeah, my mom.” Ellis nudges me with his elbow. “She was determined to have the perfect home away from home when she comes to visit.”
“Where does she live again?” I ask, desperate for a subject change, as I place Fefe’s carrier on the floor by the bed.
“She bought an RV when she retired, and she goes wherever the wind takes her.”
“Oh, that sounds nice,” I say, imagining the freedom that must come with it. “How cool to be able to explore at the drop of a hat.”
“Cool for her, stressful for me.”
“Why is that?” I ask, fighting to hide my amusement at his grumpy disposition.
“She doesn't have the best sense of personal safety. She’s parked in some really sketchy camps, sometimes not even in a camp, and don’t get me started on the friends she’s made along the way.” He puts air quotes around friends. “But she really likes it, so I try to be happy and supportive.” He huffs out a laugh. “I'm pretty sure she's got a boyfriend in every city she's visited.”