Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 132097 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 660(@200wpm)___ 528(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132097 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 660(@200wpm)___ 528(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
Ethan doesn’t trust me after all.
I’m not sure he ever did.
And that feels like someone slamming a ten-pound art book square into my ribs with enough force to fracture them.
All because I asked Margot a few innocent questions about his dating life.
Because I just had to figure out if there was any chance he’d ever be interested in me after this sham expires.
Because my self-confidence is more brittle than a wafer.
Thanks, Mom.
Now, I have my answer, and it’s a resounding hell no.
“Hattie,” Ethan says, crashing after me through the doors.
I straighten up and look brave—I try—my spine cracking and my chest aching.
“Fuck, Hattie.”
I blink back some tears with mixed success.
“Ethan, it’s—it’s fine.”
The pathetic way my voice cracks gives me away.
He caresses my face with both hands, smoothing away the tears.
“I never meant to make you cry like this, Pages. I’m sorry. It’s been a confusing day and I—fuck, never mind. No excuses.”
“It’s fine,” I lie, pulling away and wiping the back of my hand on my cheeks.
Moisture wets my skin like the soggy mess I am.
“Too many damn surprises lately,” he rumbles, taking my hand and clenching it tight. “I never meant to go off on you. If you’re questioning your looks, then—”
“No.” I take a step back. “No, don’t say it.”
“You’re gorgeous. You know that, right?”
Gorgeous.
Normally, just hearing it would make my heart flutter.
But now, it feels like one of those code words men only use when they want to screw you over.
At least Ethan still wants to screw me, even if that’s all he wants.
“I really should get out of here. We’re making a scene. I’ll get an Uber back,” I say coolly, relieved to find my voice is finally calm. “You’ve got all your family business here and you’re right, I’m not a part of it. It’s none of my business. I got a few ideas from the booksellers in New York, so I’m going to head home early and work on planning, if that’s okay?”
He nods slowly.
It’s a flimsy excuse, but it feels right.
This is what I need.
Space.
Time to clear my head and try to do something productive, without pushing anyone’s heart through a cheese grater.
Ethan threads a hand through his thick hair.
“You don’t have to leave alone, Hattie. Just because we had an argument.”
“Actually, I wouldn’t mind heading home early, if there’s any way I can fly back to Portland?” I ask. “I don’t want to put you out, and if you need to stay and touch base with Margot or your family… I understand.”
“You won’t be in the way,” he growls.
“I’ll take Ares, too,” I say, thinking on my feet. “I think he’s happier in Maine. More seagulls to chase. Or, y’know, tire himself out barking.”
My lame joke falls flat.
“Pages,” Ethan says, but there’s a resigned sigh in his voice.
He knows this isn’t an argument he’ll win.
“It’s fine. It’s okay. I’m okay. I promise.”
He pulls me in for a kiss, still wet from the salty tears on my lips.
His tongue flicks over the seam of my lips and I open for him, letting him hold me against his body.
For the briefest moment, I pretend everything’s fine between us.
I let his kiss reassure me in ways I wish it truly could.
I’m just not sure any kiss can bridge the canyon between us tonight.
But God, I want it to.
Desperately.
So I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss my delusions right back, losing myself in the hot sweep of his tongue and the greedy way his hands wind down my back.
Mine, they say.
But only yours for now. That’s what my kiss says back.
I’m frantic, breathing into his mouth in a way that’s inappropriate for a public sidewalk outside a rock star restaurant in a major city, but I don’t care.
And when he pulls away, he rests his forehead on mine.
“Just for a couple days. I’ll be back soon,” he says. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”
“Y-yeah.” I run my hands through his hair. “Fine. See?”
His fingers trace my jaw. I shiver with want.
It’s not fair how good he is at pushing my buttons after a fight.
Even after knowing he doesn’t trust me, his touch melts me like butter.
“I’ll miss you,” he says in a way that makes it clear what he means.
He’ll miss the sex when he’s permanently horny.
That has to be it, I tell myself.
My heart throbs harder, torn between desire and disappointment.
“I’ll miss you too,” I whisper.
I mean something totally different when I say it back.
Oh, if this walking contradiction only knew.
Ares flops down with his head in my lap for the short flight back to Portland.
I stroke his long ears absently as his weight slowly makes my thighs go numb.
Ethan insisted I use the private jet.
For Ares’ sake, I couldn’t turn him down, even if I’ve never felt this out of place in my life on this fancy plane alone.