Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 88992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Brooks clears his throat. “We agreed yesterday that we weren’t expecting to come home feeling that way we did, whatever that meant to us individually.”
What?
“And I suggested we take some time to clear our heads last night and then discuss things this morning,” he says, his gaze shifting all over the room—to anywhere but me.
Tears clump in the corners of my eyes.
“Hey, don’t cry,” he says, clenching his fists at his sides.
I laugh sadly. “This isn’t a voluntary reaction. My body systems understand signals and historical patterns and try to get ahead of big emotions.”
“Audrey, I’m sorry.”
Audrey? Oof.
The first tear breaks free and rolls down my cheek. It’s utterly ridiculous to have tears shed without a reason, but that reason is coming. The elephant is already in the room with us, and it’s standing on my chest.
“Okay,” I say, drying beneath my eyes with my fingers. “What are you sorry for?”
“I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
His evasiveness burrows beneath my skin, and it burns like crazy. The man who demanded that I tell him exactly what I want is suddenly unable to form more than one sentence?
What the hell happened today?
We texted throughout the day yesterday after he dropped me off, and last night he called me before I fell asleep. I haven’t had time to be annoying, or childish, or to say something foolish enough to turn his opinion of me.
Was he playing me all along? Did I read him wrong?
“Do you know what?” I ask. “You need to look me in the eye when you’re speaking to me, and you need to tell me exactly what’s going on. You know, since you love exactness so much.”
“Motherfucker,” he growls, running his hands through his hair.
The longer I face him, the angrier I become. “Say it.’
“I have loved spending time with you,” he says, moving toward me as if he’s desperate for me to believe him. “On my life, it was the best few days of my life.” He shakes his head, squeezing his eyes closed. “We aren’t going to work out.”
His eyes fly open and find mine, searching for signs of the pain ripping me into shreds.
“This is so unfair,” I say, stepping away from him. “Stay over there.”
He grits his teeth together, but retreats to the other side of the table.
I stand like a fool just staring at him, trying to put puzzle pieces together that don’t match—trying to match up the man I woke up next to yesterday to this cold, sanitized version that makes no sense.
“Please don’t take this the wrong way,” he says, the words nearly a plea. “This isn’t about you. I just … I told you while we were sitting at this table that you were the kind of girl who levels my world, and I’m the kind of guy who decimates yours.”
“Oh,” I say, pretending to go along with his theory. “You’re right, you did say that. My bad. This is just you making sure you follow through, right?”
“No.”
My blood speeds through my veins, and a burst of energy surges along with it. “Okay. So, next you’re going to say that I should’ve seen this coming, right? Because you don’t give a crap what other people think about you.”
“No. Stop it.”
“I’m not going to stop it,” I say, my voice rising so quickly that it makes me jump. “You are full of crap right now. You’re backing out of this, whatever it was going to be, and you want to dust your hands off and say I told you so.” I narrow my eyes. “That’s not fair, and it’s also childish.”
His shoulders droop, and I can see flashes of pain striking across his eyes. I want to leap across this room at him, pull him into my arms and hold him as tightly as he’s held me. But he doesn’t want that. He doesn’t want me. After everything we shared and explored, he’s saying no.
Bullshit.
“I’ve never been shy about telling you that I can’t give you stability,” he says, talking fast. “And we agreed to no expectations. Remember?”
I pace in a circle, thinking surprisingly clearly despite the mist covering my eyes.
“What were you doing?” I ask. “Tricking me? Playing me? Just wanted a pathetic girl who’d let you fuck her for a few days.”
“Stop it right fucking now.” His eyes blaze. “I mean it. Don’t go there.”
“I won’t, because I don’t believe that’s true. I’m not pathetic. I’m not blissfully naïve or desperate.” I face him head-on. “I’m a good person who was honest with you. Who trusted you. And if anyone should feel pathetic, it’s you.”
His face softens, and I think he might smile, but he doesn’t. And that doesn’t make any sense either. None of it does.
The typical bright green irises that shine back at me are cloudy. And the lips normally ready to plant kisses over every nook and cranny of my body are pressed into a tight, thin line.