Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 33433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 167(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 167(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
"If this has anything to do with our mother, count me out," Briggs says. "I've reached my limit of dealing with her."
"It has nothing to do with her." I don't even think about that woman unless I'm forced to. She has no place in my life. The best thing I ever did was block her goddamn number after Hattie told her to fuck off out of our lives. "It's about Sophie."
"Ah." I hear the grin in his voice. "I heard that she quit her dance company."
That draws me up short. "She what?"
Briggs goes silent. "Shit. You didn't know."
"No," I choke out, grasping the back of the couch to keep myself upright. What the fuck? "When?"
"Hattie told me this morning. I guess she walked into practice yesterday morning and told them she was done."
Jesus Christ.
Why didn't she tell me? My heart clenches, icy fear like a goddamn knot in my stomach. This is why she's seemed off. This is what she's been hiding. Why?
I don't know, but I intend to find out. If keeping this from me is her way of trying to push me away again, it's not going to fucking work. She doesn't get to run again. She doesn't get to claim my whole fucking heart and then act like it isn't hers. Hell no.
"I need to go," I growl.
"Go where?"
"To the airport. I need to catch a flight to spank her gorgeous fucking ass."
Briggs chokes on laughter. "You might want to wait, brother. Last I heard, she isn't even in town. Hattie said she caught a flight out first thing this morning."
I pinch the bridge of my nose, breathing deep. "I need to hang up now," I growl. "Because every sentence you say pisses me off worse than the last."
"My bad," Briggs says, his voice soft. "Just...don't do anything you'll regret. And don't even think about skipping Hattie's wedding this weekend, motherfucker. I will fly out there and drag you onto the plane my goddamn self."
"Your faith in me is still so inspiring," I growl before hanging up on him. Doesn't matter what's going on in my life, hell will freeze over before I miss Hattie's wedding. But goddamn. I feel like the wind just got knocked out of me.
Sophie quit her ballet company.
And where the fuck is she right now?
I dial her number, my hands shaking.
"If you aren't on my phone in the next ten minutes, I swear to Christ, ballerina, I will hunt you down and spank you in front of God and everybody," I rasp into her voicemail. "Do you hear me? Call me. Now."
I disconnect and then take the stairs two at a time. I don't stop moving until I'm in my room, and then I only stop long enough to grab my suitcase from the closet before I'm throwing shit into it, not caring what lands inside and what doesn't. I can buy anything that doesn't make the trip, but I'm not waiting until tomorrow to fly out there. I'm going tonight. Right now.
Within ten minutes, my shit is packed…and she still hasn't called back. I stomp down the stairs, my suitcase in hand, and head straight for the door.
I damn near rip it off the hinges, cursing up a blue streak.
"Damn, Captain. Are you always this cranky about answering the door?" Sophie asks, leaning against a column with a grin on her face.
I blink, positive I'm seeing shit. But her grin widens, her green eyes running up and down my body.
My suitcase hits the floor at my feet.
In two steps, she's in my arms, her body wrapped around me. She squeals, burying her face in my throat.
I haul her inside, tripping over my suitcase in the process. We go down hard. Somehow, I manage to twist so I take the brunt of the fall, landing on my ass with her sprawled on top of me, all flailing limbs and wild laughter.
"Jesus Christ, Harlan," she gasps, her body shaking against mine. "You trying to end both of our careers or what?"
I roll us until she's pinned beneath me, her hair fanning out across the rug, her eyes bright as she stares up at me. "You're here," I say, just staring at her.
"Well…yeah."
I can't help it. I dip my head, kissing her until the only thing I taste is her, until the only thing I remember is how perfect she feels writhing beneath me. And then I pull back, as desperate for answers as I am to be inside her.
"I need you to explain," I rasp. "I've been losing my mind all goddamn day. Briggs told me that you quit your company."
Her eyes widen and then narrow. "Dammit," she grumbles. "I wanted to be the one who told you."
"Why'd you quit?"
"You know the first thing Greg said to me when I got to practice on Monday?" she asks by way of answer. "He told me that he hoped I hadn't overeaten on my vacation because I'd already messed up his back."