Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 115308 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115308 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
His words crushed me. Were so physically debilitating, I stumbled back from him.
Will’s eyes widened, instant remorse etching into his features. “Maia … fuck. I didn’t … I’m sorry.”
Fresh tears fell, and I hated him for those too. I tried to get my breath back as I wiped at them.
“Maia, I’m so sorry.” He reached for me again.
I slapped his hand away. “Don’t fucking touch me.” I glared at him, disbelieving I had been ready to marry this arsehole. He didn’t know a thing about me. “You have no idea why I am the way I am, but if you think I give a shit about my appearance because of vanity, you know nothing about me. You don’t know what it’s like to have grown up the way I did. To have someone else’s shame crawl on your skin. To have people look at you like you’re trash, and not for anything you did.” I brushed impatiently at my quickly falling tears. My chest hurt so fucking badly, I was surprised I could force out the words. “The hair, the makeup, the clothes … it’s just armor. It makes me feel safe.”
Will gaped at me. “Why have you never told me that? If I’d known that—”
“It doesn’t matter now.” I scrubbed my cheeks, knowing I was taking all my makeup with it and, for once, not giving a shit.
“It does. I want to know.” He looked like he was going to move toward me again, so I physically retreated.
“No.” I shook my head, dread a dark pit in my stomach. “You don’t get to have it.”
“Maia—”
“I could never marry you now. Only a narcissist would ask his fiancée to wait around while he fucked another woman so he could decide whether said fiancée was worthy of him.”
He flinched again, taking a step back.
“Goodbye, Will.”
“Maia—”
“I’ll arrange to get my things later.”
“Maia, please.”
I had only so much strength left, and I wanted to walk out with my head held high and my eyes clear. I strode across the room, my stiletto heels stabbing his precious hardwood floors, and I slammed out of the flat so hard, I heard his period windows vibrate.
I hurried through the streets of New Town, not meeting anyone’s eyes, desperate to get back to my flat before the avalanche of emotions collapsed over me.
As soon as my flat door closed behind me, I let the pain that had built up in my chest out in harsh, sobbing cries. And when the pain became too much to bear on my own, I fumbled for my phone and thumbed through my contacts, the names blurry through my tears.
After a few rings, she picked up. “My? How are you, sweetheart?”
“Grace,” I sobbed my stepmother’s name.
“My, what’s happened?”
I couldn’t speak.
“Are you home?”
“Y-yes,” I forced out.
“I’m on my way.”
CHAPTER ONE
BAIRD
The early-morning traffic was light across the city center. It meant I got to the gym on Queen Street in minutes on my black Honda Rebel 500. When I was looking for a motorbike three months ago, all the reviews said the Honda was best for commuting. The gaffer hated it, but it was easier to park than my BMW M2, the sports car I bought because it was comfortable for a man my size—I’d wanted something with some speed to it. The gaffer fucking hated that too.
It was so early, a chilled fog hung over the top of the Georgian buildings as I swung my leg off my bike and yanked my helmet free, which I only wore because it was illegal not to.
A sexy blond approached the gym entrance as I took the protective headgear off, and she flashed me a come-hither smile. Inside, I felt nothing. Maybe a bit naked as I ran my hand through my new hairdo. On the outside, my grin was wide. “Morning, gorgeous.”
“Good morning.” She gave me another hot smile before she entered the building.
Anticipation filled me as I followed her inside.
But not for her.
There was only one reason I got out of bed two hours before I needed to.
Hurrying through my routine, I shoved my clothes into a locker and raced as quickly as a man could in swim shorts on wet tile flooring. The whole place reeked of chlorine and that only upped the anticipation.
As I stepped out into the pool area, my eyes scanned its length. It wasn’t a leisure pool, so it was only twenty meters and not very deep. This was for laps and exercise only.
There were only two people in it at this hour—a guy who kept glancing across the pool to the dark-haired female who had no idea she was being watched. I scowled at the fucker before turning back to the woman.
Her dark head bobbed in and out of the water, and my pulse picked up as she cut through it with the precision of someone who had been swimming for years.