Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 120029 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 600(@200wpm)___ 480(@250wpm)___ 400(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120029 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 600(@200wpm)___ 480(@250wpm)___ 400(@300wpm)
Richie takes a bit too long to answer, and I hope his friends see that. “You went off somewhere, while I was taking the puppies to safety!” he finally sputters, so, in my fury, I grab another pumpkin and hurl it at him to a mix of gasps, laughter, and one ‘that’s not cool, man!’. This one manages to hit Richie in the shoulder. I’m not a violent man, quite the opposite really, but everyone has their limits.
“I was grabbing the final puppy when you ran away. And you wouldn’t have been there in the first place if I didn’t convince you to come, so don’t pretend like you’re some big animal lover, because you couldn’t even remember to feed your friend’s fish for a week!”
There’s jeers, comments, laughter, but all I can see is Richie’s handsome face. Too bad it’s only a mask of the treacherous swine he is!
I can’t believe I had his cock in my mouth.
“I thought it was a misunderstanding, but here you are, flirting with someone else and lying to his face. We are done!”
Richie walks up to me and pushes me on the shoulder. “Oh yeah? I told you we were done last night!” He did not, but of course, all he cares about is optics. “Why are you even here if you hate me so much now, huh? Bet you came for another fuck and now you’re throwing shit at me ‘cause you got jealous I moved on?”
I’ve been so blind.
I idealized him just because he wasn’t hiding me like all my other exes. I thought of him as my prince charming, but there are no prince charmings. There are guys who will say and do anything to get their dick sucked.
I can’t believe I fell for it. Again.
The anger inside me needs to be vented, so I grab one side of that stupid vest and tug at it. “I’m not interested in Ian’s sloppy seconds. No offense,” I growl Ian’s way, and the guy steps back, rolling his eyes.
“Maybe if you weren’t such a goody-two-shoes, we would have worked out,” Richie says, slapping my hand aside.
I yelp, because that actually hurts. I just don’t know if it hurt my hand more or my heart. As embarrassing as it is now, I had feelings for Richie, romantic ones. What am I supposed to say to that? I can now see that he’s been checked out of our relationship for a while. That’s why he didn’t want to commit to a birthday party. He wasn’t even sure we’d be together next month.
I’m stuck in limbo, unsure how to react as I cradle my hand, suffocating under the weight of surrounding sniggers.
A large gloved hand reaches from behind me and grabs Richie’s wrist. The tall man steps to my side, watching my new nemesis like a hawk, and I can’t believe my eyes, because it’s the elven knight from my dream.
What the heck?
His long, silky red hair cascades over spiked pauldrons like rivers of blood, golden eyes sparkle like crystals, and when he turns to me and speaks? Oh, mother have mercy, his deep voice goes straight between my legs.
“Is this man bothering you?” he asks like my personal knight in shining armor.
He’s so fine that even right after the reality check of Richie’s attitude, I want to believe that this man could treat his partner right. That he’s not secretly a freak, who’ll drug you for fun, or clean out your credit card.
He’s wearing armor too, the very same I remember from my dream, with the front bearing the emblem of a crab.
My instinct is to retreat and leave this sad situation behind, but the prince looks so sincere I instead meet his gaze and raise my voice. “He is, actually. He left me in a dangerous situation. He cheated on me, lied, and now put his hands on me!”
Tristan’s frown makes him no less handsome, and he turns to Richie with a somber expression. He shoves Richie back as he lets go of his wrist and takes off his large leather glove.
“Despicable. I only came here to pick up Nate, but this won’t do.” Tristan… throws the glove in Richie’s face. “I challenge you to a duel.”
I don’t even understand what’s happening anymore. Pick me up? What does he mean by that?
But the crowd that swelled because of my spectacular breakup with Richie now howls, whistles and claps.
Richie laughs, but I’ve known him long enough to see uncertainty in his body language. “What are you even talking about, dude? You’re taking this costume of yours way too seriously.”
“No, guys, please! We need to see this duel,” Kim, one of Richie’s friends says, hanging on to her own boyfriend, who immediately chimes in, grabbing Richie.
“You’re not chickening out, are you?”
That is the trigger needed to make things happen. A satisfying heat settles in my chest when Richie flushes, meeting Prince Tristan’s gaze. “I accept. Let’s duel in beer pong.”