Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 108362 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 542(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108362 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 542(@200wpm)___ 433(@250wpm)___ 361(@300wpm)
Shannon nodded, soaking up the last of her soup with the crusty bread that came with it. A brief flash of uneasiness passed over her features, which gave me pause.
“What’s wrong?”
She shook her head. “It’s nothing.”
“Shannon. Something’s clearly bothering you. Tell me.”
“Well, I’ve always gone out of my way to ensure no one I work with knows you’re my ex.”
“Oh?”
“It’s not because I’m ashamed or anything,” she was quick to explain. “I just like my privacy. Plus, when people find out you know someone famous, it makes them try to befriend you just to get access to that person, and … well, you get it.” I nodded, listening while she fidgeted with the rim of her teacup. “So, I always thought that no one knew, but there’s this one guy, Dean, he’s kind of an arsehole, know-it-all type. I just found out today that his flatmate is a huge Astro fan who watches all the old footage of you guys, and I was in one of the videos, so he figured out we were married.”
“And?” I said, already not liking the sound of this Dean bloke. If Shannon called him an arsehole, then he must be a real piece of work because it took a lot for her to speak poorly of someone. “It’s not a crime to have been married to me, Shannon. It won’t affect your job.”
“No, I know that.”
“So, what?”
She pushed away her teacup and lifted her gaze to me, a mixture of guilt and discomfort on her face. She stared at the table, not looking at me when she confessed, “I kissed Dean once, a couple weeks after the divorce. It was on the way home from our yearly Christmas party. I was drunk and acting out of character, and honestly, I never even liked him. He was just there, and I was going through a bad time emotionally. But ever since, he’s been weirdly focused on me, especially since he asked me out after the kiss, and I declined.”
Fuck, what was this feeling? Pure, unadulterated agony. We were divorced, but I still hated the idea of Shannon kissing another man, especially since if I hadn’t been such a piece of shit, she’d still be mine. So her kissing this prick was technically all my fault, which only made the self-hatred worse.
I managed to swallow down my jealousy and maintain my composure when I said, “Define ‘weirdly focused.’”
At last, she looked up, searching my gaze as though trying to figure out how I was taking this. Badly, Shannon, really fucking badly. But I wouldn’t upset her by letting it show.
“He just acts like I have a crush on him, even though I rejected him in the end. I think he might even insinuate to our coworkers that I asked him out, and he was the one to say no. But anyway, I don’t care about that. What’s unsettled me was how he seemed so pleased to reveal he knew you were my ex. It gave me this really awful feeling, and I can’t help but wonder …”
“You can’t help but wonder what?”
“If he’s the one who’s been conning your fans.”
All the self-recrimination and jealousy was instantly replaced with rage. If this motherfucker was the one behind the catfishing, I was going to do some serious damage. He’d been making Shannon uncomfortable at work, acting like he’d rejected her to their colleagues. I hadn’t even met the prick, but I already knew he wasn’t fit to lick her boots. Nobody was. Not even me.
“If it’s him, I’ll bloody kill him,” I fumed.
“Jace, we need to be smart about this. It’s only a suspicion. I could be completely off.”
“Send his information to my dad. He’ll find out if it’s him,” I said, managing to hold it together.
Shannon nodded, and a moment of disquiet fell between us. Her pretty eyes flickered back and forth between mine. “Are you okay?”
I gave a joyless laugh. “No.”
“I’m sorry.”
Her face was glum, and I found myself reaching across the table and taking her hands into mine. “You have absolutely nothing to be sorry about.”
“I just … I feel bad. I know you’ve probably been with other women since the divorce, but I really wouldn’t want to hear about them. And yes, it was only a kiss, but—”
“I haven’t,” I blurted, cutting her off, and she blinked, those gorgeous eyes widening.
“What?”
“I haven’t been with anyone,” I told her.
“That’s not … you can’t possibly …”
“It’s true, Shannon. Not a single soul.”
“But … but you—”
Before she could finish whatever she’d been about to say, there was a knock on the door to the snug. It opened, and Isla appeared. “There you two are. We’ve had a nightmare trying to find parking on this street. Are you almost finished?”
“We’re finished,” Shannon replied, and what I wouldn’t give to be able to read her mind.