Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 145746 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145746 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
“In a little bit. You guys go on ahead.”
Her face falls, but she melts into the small group leaving the room and making their way down to the beach.
“You sound amazing,” I tell Neevah, standing from the piano and walking with her toward the ballroom exit.
“Gosh, it feels like it took all day to get it right.”
“You weren’t that far off anyway,” I say, scanning the walkway for any sign of Verity. “I’m just hard to satisfy.”
“Between you and Canon, I don’t know how any of us survive.”
“So, you and our esteemed director, huh?” I ask, slanting a teasing smile down at her. She and I haven’t discussed her relationship with Canon being exposed.
“Guess everyone knows now,” she says, but to her credit, doesn’t look ashamed.
I hold her elbow as we negotiate a steep set of steps leading down to the beach where the cast and crew have already started forming a line at an outdoor buffet. “I already knew. He’s never been like this about anyone else.”
“Thanks, Monk.” She smiles up at me, and it’s obvious she’s tired, but her happiness is just as evident.
She walks over to Takira, her best friend and on-set hairdresser, leaving me to stand on the shore, scanning the group for Verity. I’m reluctant to join them because I’ll be bad company. I always am when I know I’ve been an asshole.
And with a little distance and a few minutes, I know I was definitely an asshole to Verity.
In front of everyone.
Whatever she did with Chris last night, she didn’t break our agreement. My reaction was unreasonable and unfair. I had no right, but I can’t clear the image of Chris kissing her, his hands low on her hips. He tasted her, touched her, and the realization that she did nothing wrong when it feels like a violation sits rank at the bottom of my stomach like rotting meat. I’m right where she left me twelve years ago.
Jealous. Rejected. Angry.
Only this time I chose it. I played myself.
“I can’t do this shit again.”
FORTY-FOUR
Verity
I should be down on the beach at the bonfire eating, laughing with the rest of the cast and crew, but I’m in my cottage, racking my brain for why Monk would humiliate me that way in front of everyone. I didn’t text him or call to ask. I’m too furious. Too hurt and I need some space to process this.
So when he comes to my cottage, I consider not answering. I press my forehead to the door and take a deep breath to steady my nerves and quiet my anger.
“What?” I snap, once the door is open and we’re facing each other at the cottage threshold. “Was there more passive-aggressive bullshit you wanted to blindside me with? Maybe you should wait till we have an audience again.”
I read the apology in his eyes, but I’m nowhere near ready to accept it.
“Can I come in?”
I stare at him for a few seconds and let the air percolate with my irritation and confusion before stepping aside. The cottage isn’t large. A small sitting area is just a few steps away from the bedroom down the narrow hall. I don’t invite him to sit on the couch, but he does anyway. I stand with my arms crossed over my chest. Waiting.
“I’m sorry,” he says, resting his elbows on his knees and letting his hands dangle between them. “The way I acted, it was wrong.”
“Why did you?” I ask, my brows snapping together. “I thought we had put the past behind us, but you basically accused me of cheating on you in front of half the cast and crew.”
“That wasn’t about the past. It was about last night.”
“What do you mean? We didn’t even see each other last night.”
“I decided to swing by and saw Chris leaving your room. I saw you kissing him.” His half grin mocks himself. “I guess you’ve deduced I didn’t take it well. I was immature and—”
“You were mistaken,” I cut in curtly. “You saw Chris kissing me, and if you’d stuck around long enough to ask about it instead of throwing a tantrum, I would’ve told you that he left minutes later.”
“I was going to say I was immature and… jealous.”
The breath flees my lungs and I can’t tear my eyes away from him.
“Jealous,” I say softly. “You have nothing to be jealous of. I’m not into Chris.”
“Okay.” He nods, but doesn’t press for more information.
“You don’t believe me?”
“It doesn’t matter.” His eyes are trained on the carpet. “We agreed we wouldn’t be exclusive, but I was an asshole as soon as I thought you weren’t.”
My hurt deflates like a balloon. Yes, he overreacted and lashed out, but at least I know why. And it exposed that he wants this to be exclusive, too.
I muster my courage and take the leap. “I feel the same—”