Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 101758 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101758 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
“Did you want anything else?”
“Why are you working two jobs?” he asks, and I frown at him.
“I just . . . do?”
“Student loans?” he asks.
“No. I just do, Xander.”
His eyes narrow, and I can see he doesn’t like that answer.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine for our sessions every day.”
Xander shakes his head, lifts the drinks, and nods at me before joining his brother at the pool table.
And those jeans look like they were custom made for his ass.
Jesus. I need to get a different hobby. One that doesn’t involve ogling my patient. The patient that has absolutely zero interest in me.
I refill two beers for the couple at the end of the bar, and then my mother walks through the door, and everything in me goes on high alert.
Fucking fuck.
She’s laughing, obviously drunk off her ass, hanging all over some guy I’ve never seen before and who looks to be about my age. Her blouse is unbuttoned to her navel, showing off a black bra that’s barely holding her tits in. Of course, the guy has his hand in her shirt, and they look like they’re about to fuck at any second.
I’d like to poke my own eyes out.
“Mom, you need to go upstairs.”
She stops laughing and turns her glare on me, making me want to shrink back the way I’ve done since I was a little girl.
But I lift my chin and hold my ground.
“This is my place,” Mom reminds me. “Pour us a couple of vodkas.”
“You need to go upstairs,” I repeat, and now the guy’s face sobers up too.
“Come on, let’s go have our own party,” he says, but Mom shakes her head, her eyes going hard with sheer stubbornness, and this is about to go very badly.
“Fuck that. This is my fucking bar.” She turns to me, malice lining her face, and pushes her finger in my chest. “Pour the motherfucking vodka, you little piece of shit, or you’re fired.”
“Great. I don’t work here anyway.” I huff out a laugh and realize that the whole bar has gone silent and Xander is standing a few feet away, his face a mask of pure anger.
Perfect.
“I fucking hate you,” Mom snarls, but by now the drunk guy is pulling her away from me, toward the stairs to the apartment. “You’re such a waste of air! I never should have had you!”
When she’s gone, I blow out a breath and shake my head.
“Show’s over.” I wipe down the bar and then get busy cutting fresh lemons, but Xander hasn’t moved. “Your brother’s waiting for you.”
“Ivy—”
I shake my head and look up at him, unflinching.
“Your brother’s waiting for you, Xander.”
Of course, the one time my mother decides to come into the bar, she’s wasted and makes a scene in front of about twenty people, all of whom I know and who are now looking at me with pity.
It’s fine.
I’m fine.
Pretending that nothing at all is wrong, I go about my business filling drinks and cleaning to stay busy. People stop looking at me, and before long, I can take a deep breath.
Xander slaps a hundred-dollar bill on the bar as he and Easton leave, and it only makes me mad.
I don’t want his money.
“I don’t need this,” I say, holding up the bill.
“It covers the tab,” he replies.
“The tab is eight dollars.”
He shrugs. “Plus tip.”
“Xander—”
But he’s already out the door, and I shove the money in my pocket with the intent to give it back to him tomorrow.
By the time I walk into my house, take a shower, and climb in bed, curled up with Cally, I’m so freaking exhausted that I slide right into sleep.
Sunlight shines in on my face, pulling me out of one hell of a dream, featuring a naked Xander, a shower, and orgasms.
My body hums as I roll over to check the time, and then I bolt upright, accidentally kick Cally, and groan.
I’m late.
I should have been at Xander’s house an hour ago.
“How did this happen?” I say to the ceiling, but no answer comes. I must have shut off the alarm and gone back to sleep, and now I need to simply die because I’m late.
And I’m never late. Not for work.
I see that I missed three texts from Xander.
Xander: Hey, Red, you okay?
Xander: Hopefully you’re getting some sleep, but just let me know if we’re going to meet today.
Xander: Don’t make me call my brother to do a wellness check.
“Christ,” I mutter as I tap his name and listen to it ring on the other end of the line.
“There you are.” His deep voice comes through the line, sending tingles down my skin. “You okay?”
“I’m so sorry. I overslept, and I’m so embarrassed—”
“Don’t be. You worked late. I’m home all day, so just come over when you’re ready.”
“I’ll be there in less than an hour.”