Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 101764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Worst of all, I’d screamed at the one person who’d been on my side.
I was an asshole.
Kenny’s gentle snores reverberated through the otherwise quiet house. He’d be safe there on the couch until he awoke feeling like trash.
As I stood in the center of the living room with my arms limp at my sides, a numbness washed over me. Shame over upsetting my mother left, anger over my out-of-commission vehicle faded, and worry for Kenny evaporated. Even guilt over the way I treated Ryder vanished. My chest felt hollow, as though someone had scooped out everything inside.
I couldn’t move.
As awful as those other feelings had been, this was a hundred times worse. I was empty. I didn’t even feel human.
And I hated it.
My gaze drifted to my cell phone, lying face down on the floor near the door.
Kenny uttered something unintelligible in a nasally mumble.
The walls began to close in, shrinking down until it felt like I was in a box so small I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe.
I couldn’t be there.
After glancing at my brother, I grabbed the phone and ran from my house.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
RYDER
Why couldn’t I shake what happened at Alex’s house?
His enraged screams to leave his house played on repeat in my head while I saw nothing but the fury in his gaze, even with my eyes closed.
Fatigue tugged at me as I stood at my kitchen island, head bowed and palms flat against the cool surface. I needed a shower but couldn’t muster the energy for the task. Instead, as soon as I’d returned home, I shed my clothes in favor of a pair of soft, flannel pajama pants, brushed my teeth, and washed my face.
But I couldn’t climb into bed. My limbs wouldn’t obey. History told me I’d stare at the ceiling until dawn, and I couldn’t stomach the thought of lying there wide awake for the next few hours, obsessing.
So I’d opted to obsess standing up in the kitchen instead.
Made sense.
Why did it grate on me so much? Alex hating me wasn’t anything new. It was our status quo. So why did his words and tone put a sick feeling I couldn’t escape in the pit of my stomach? Why did they feel as though they’d invaded me on a cellular level, throwing off my entire world?
A soft knock at my door had me lifting my head. Who the hell would be darkening my doorstep at this hour?
Shit. My spine straightened. It could be my sister.
Barefoot, I jogged to the door. Despite the late hour, I had the presence of mind to check the peephole before yanking the door open to an unknown visitor. I peered into the hallway, only to freeze, not even daring to breathe.
Alex stood at my door with a defeated posture. He stared at his feet. Was he there to yell at me some more? To berate me for entering his home uninvited?
I frowned as I took in his sweatshirt and sweatpants—the same outfit he’d worn home from the club, only without a winter jacket. And how the hell had he gotten to my house without a car? Did he pay for an Uber?
Curiosity won out over common sense. I unlocked the deadbolt and opened the door.
His head came up, gaze meeting mine.
“Ryder…” Remorse bled from him in waves so strong he didn’t need to say anything else. The sadness and guilt in his gaze were more than enough apology for me. In the thirty minutes since I left him, he seemed to have deflated. Dark smudges beneath each eye put a pinch in my chest.
He needed sleep.
And he probably needed food.
Who cared for him while he was busy meeting his family’s needs?
And going to school.
And working.
Christ, just thinking about his mountain of responsibilities had me exhausted. How did he do it every day? And why did the thought of being the one he turned to have my cock plumping?
Rather than invite him in, I grabbed the front of his hoodie and yanked him flush against me. We’d yet to kiss, and the move put his lips in line with mine with mere inches separating us.
“It’s okay,” I whispered. His breath held a hint of expensive tequila, the only shot I’d seen him take all night, hours ago.
He shook his head. “No,” he whispered back. “It’s not. I was awful to you. I was a dick. And after you help—”
I rolled my hips into his, leaving my rapidly stiffening cock nestled against his, making him gasp and his eyes flare.
“Well…” I whispered, barely a breath away from his lips. “I guess it’s a good thing I like dick so much.”
He trembled. His hands landed on my sides, holding me against him. “Kiss me, Ryder.”
I groaned. There wasn’t anything I wanted more than to know what his mouth tasted like. I’d fantasized about it nearly every time we fucked around recently.