Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 61248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 306(@200wpm)___ 245(@250wpm)___ 204(@300wpm)
“I want you to go to your brother,” I say, and he leans in, kisses me again, and this time, he’s gone.
I shut the door and lock it, grab the suitcases, and roll them toward the bedroom, more than a little eager to see Ethan’s king’s chamber. Struggling a bit with both cases, I stumble and hit my heel, but I achieve my task. Both cases are in the bedroom when I turn on the light. And holy wow, it’s gorgeous. Brick that matches the wall by the living room bar is behind the massive king-sized bed, and the window is just one big pane, with a view of lights and shadowy jutting buildings. I walk to the brown leather-framed bed and sit down. The room smells like him, woodsy and masculine, and I decide it most likely drugs me with his presence, even when he’s not here.
I’ve just plopped back onto the comfy mattress when the doorbell rings. My brows dip, and I sit up straight. Did Ethan forget something, and I locked him out? Or maybe there’s another suitcase? I push to my feet and rush into the living room, realizing I need to put up the pizza and clean the kitchen, too. Without much caution, I throw open the door. Anna stands there, looking as stunning as ever, her red hair in waves at her shoulders. “I told Eric I’d bring this case up to you.” She’s holding Ethan’s briefcase, and apparently Eric likes the deep V of her cleavage enough to allow her to the top floor. “I didn’t expect to see you here. I need to see Ethan.”
“He’s not here.” I’m not even thinking of letting her in. I reach for the bag, and she begrudgingly hands it over to me.
She sniffs the air. “I smell Marcos. He loves that place. I see he’s recreating our little habits with you. Where is he if he’s not here?”
“He went to see Grant.”
“Ah. Right. Good thing. Grant’s so fucked up. He’s nothing like Ethan.”
It hits me then, that if Grant was suicidal, she’d be with him. Wouldn’t she? What kind of game are they playing? Are they in on it together or both coming at Ethan with a different deck of cards? Ethan has made it clear that both of them like their games.
“I guess you’re not going to invite me in?” she dares suggest, as if I’d consider any such thing.
“It’s late.”
“Right. Well, let me just give you a few words of advice, since we most likely won’t get any more one-on-one time. Be a good girl. Keep being a good girl. He likes that. Perform for him, and you will end up on his arm and in his home, just like you are now. Don’t slip. I forgot how important it was for him, and he kicked me to the curb. Enjoy that pizza.” With that, she turns on her heels and walks away.
I slam the door, and my back hits the wood surface. He calls me a good girl. Is that what this is? Him replacing her with me?
Was she really his good girl, too?
Clearly, the answer is yes.
The end…for now