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)
Good luck, bruh. Didn’t work for me.
“I thought you were hungry,” he says, sliding his hand down and squeezing her hip.
Verity frowns. “I am, but—”
“Maybe you could give us a minute,” I cut in, folding my arms across my chest and watching him steadily. “We’re catching up.”
The sounds and scents of the stoop party melt into the moment while he and I consider each other. Verity steps out of his hold and fiddles with the gold hoop in her ear as we wait for Luis to step off.
“Right,” he finally says. “I’ll get your plate, babe. You still want fish? Slaw? Hush puppies?”
“Yeah, that sounds good. Thanks.” She flashes a smile that dismisses him, even though he lingers a few more seconds before walking away, leaving a charged quiet between Verity and me.
“Boyfriend?” I ask, keeping my tone casual.
“No.” She shakes her head. “I don’t do relationships.”
“That would’ve been great to know when we were supposed to be in one.”
She stills and straightens her spine, the first sign of fire in her eyes when they meet mine. “Anymore. I don’t do relationships anymore.”
“That’s probably for the best so there’s no confusion. Monogamy is apparently a very complex concept.”
“It’s actually quite simple. I’m just not interested in it.”
“I seem to remember asking you about that and you said you were interested at the time.”
She shrugs, holding my stare almost defiantly. “Lesson learned.”
“You could have saved us both a lot of time and…” I won’t say heartbreak. I won’t give her the satisfaction. “Trouble.”
“I’m sorry about that,” she says, the lines of her face softening. “You’re right. I never should have… it was a mistake.”
“What exactly was the mistake, Verity?” I demand, heat rising around my neck with my anger. “Not keeping your legs closed? Lying to me?”
“It was a tough time in my life,” she says, her voice dropping, her eyes shifting away from mine. “I underestimated what I was going through and how hard it would be to navigate. That’s all.”
“Got it.” I give a sharp nod. “So now you find guys like Luis. He’s just some guy you’re fucking.”
“That’s right. He’s just some guy I’m fucking.” Her chin juts to a proud angle, and that glorious mouth of hers pulls tight. “What the hell does it have to do with you? You don’t have girls you just fuck?”
“Yeah, but you were never one of them.”
I want to scrape the words out of the air and shove them back down my throat. It’s an admission of how devastated I was when she cheated. Maybe I can salvage this, walk away before she realizes she still affects me. She’s still the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen. It’s not just her physically. It’s the mystery of her eyes—that there are secrets in them only the right person could ferret out. It’s in her stillness, in her quiet. Makes you wonder how she sounds when she moans and writhes. I knew. I had that, and as much as I wish I didn’t, I’ve missed it.
“Monk,” she says, some amalgamation of sadness and regret making her eyes brighter. “I—”
“I’m gonna go.” I turn before she can say whatever bullshit she was thinking. “Have a nice life, Verity.”
One step. Two. Three. Four.
The farther I get, the deeper the ache in my chest grows. How does she do that to me? In less than five minutes? In fewer than a hundred words, how does she tie me up like this again? My brain knows what she did and what she really is, but every other part of me just doesn’t give a fuck.
“You know what,” I say, turning back, almost surprised to find her still standing like a statue exactly where I left her. “I changed my mind. There is something else.”
She pulls back her shoulders as if bracing for my next words. “What is it?”
“Did I miss the signs? Completely misjudge what you felt? At first, I thought I must have gotten it wrong, but then I remember.”
The slim line of her throat works at a swallow and she knots the dress in her fists, but is otherwise completely still.
“What do you remember?” she asks, her voice low, a wisp of smoke.
I step as close to her as I can without touching. Close enough to smell the cleanness of her skin under tonight’s sweat and to feel the subtle heat of her body. I look down at her, and from my height, with her eyes cast down, her lashes paint crescents on the lush rise of her cheeks. Her breasts lift sharply with the hitch of her breath. Even in the summer heat, goose bumps flare over the silky skin of her arms. Her body telegraphs to mine that, though she may have betrayed me, the electric current that always flowed from her to me is still alive. I feel it, too.