Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 102361 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102361 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
You can’t ignore me, baby.
Without a word, I follow her upstairs. She unlocks both deadbolts, opens the door, and doesn’t bother to try to shut it in my face. I walk in behind her, close the door, and then we’re standing in her stuffy attic. Her back is to me, her hands on her hips.
“Ten years,” she says, finally breaking the silence. “I got the tattoo ten years ago.”
Five years after we broke up.
My already shattered heart cracks again.
“I assume that’s what you want to know,” she says as she turns to look at me. Her arms wrap around her middle, like she’s protecting herself from me.
“I was curious, yeah.”
She nibbles that lower lip.
“The food was great.”
Her eyes fill with tears.
“Fuck.”
Without asking permission, I close the gap between us, tug her against my chest, and wrap my arms around her.
“I hate how much you hate me,” she mutters against me. “I hate it so much. I don’t know how to change it. I don’t know what to say to anyone. I feel so fucking alone.”
Just when I’m about to tell her that I don’t hate her, she shakes her head and backs out of my arms, wipes her face, and turns her back to me once more.
“I’m glad you liked the food.”
She’s back to that stiff politeness.
“Jules—”
“I needed those orgasms,” she admits with the shrug of one shoulder. “I know it’s nothing personal, but it was a good trade for the food. Won’t happen again, though, because I won’t fuck another man who hates me. Learned that lesson.”
I want to fucking roar.
What does she mean by that?
“I need you to go now.”
“I’d like to talk to you.”
Juliet shakes her head and sighs so deeply, it’s as though she’s exhausted down to her soul.
“I don’t want to talk. I need you to go, Brooks.”
I stay rooted where I am, watching her. If I really hated her, I wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t give a flying fuck about her feelings.
I do care.
“You being here hurts me.”
Those whispered words are all I need to make me leave.
The truth is, we won’t ever be together again. She’s not mine. I’m an idiot for not being able to control myself and keep my cock under control.
I’ll fix her car, and then I’ll wash my hands of Juliet forever.
This has to end.
Chapter Nine
JULIET
For the first time since I opened my restaurant, I don’t want to work today.
I’m lying on my back, staring at the ceiling of my attic apartment. To be fair, it’s not a ceiling. It’s bare wood beams, and not the fancy kind. I’m naked because even though it’s no longer hotter than Satan’s ass outside, it’s still stuffy and warm up here, and I don’t have the energy to turn on the fan.
I don’t want to leave my bed.
Which means I have to leave my bed. I’ve been here before, years ago, and if I let myself stay here, I won’t get up for days.
But do I have to go to work?
I quickly do a mental tally of who I have coming in to work today. I have a full staff, and the new hires are even working out just fine. Technically, they should be okay without me. Christy and Hazel can lead things just fine, and James, one of the new hires, comes in at eleven.
They don’t need me.
So without overthinking it, I shoot Christy a text.
Me: Good morning! Hey, I won’t be in today. The dough for today’s bread is in the fridge and ready to go. Are you okay handling things with Hazel and James? You can always call me if you need me.
I cringe when I see the time. It’s just past five in the morning, so I don’t expect a quick response from her. To my surprise, less than five minutes later, she replies.
Christy: No problem! You deserve a day off. I hope it’s for something fun and not because you’re sick. We’ll be fine. Should I call Erica in for the dinner shift?
I grin. Christy is damn good at her job. I should promote her to manager and start delegating some things. Now that the restaurant continues to get busier and more popular, it’s becoming increasingly difficult to manage everything myself.
Me: Laurie should be coming in at three for the dinner shift, but this is only her fourth day, so if you need more help, call Erica.
Christy: Laurie’s great! We should be fine. Thanks, Jules. I’ll head over in a bit to get started on the bread.
Me: I appreciate it!
I let out a sigh of relief and toss my phone onto the bed. I feel a little guilty that I don’t want to work. I love my restaurant. I worked damn hard for it, and I’m grateful that I have it.
But I haven’t had a true day off in longer than I can remember.