Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 98643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Only instead of Jules, I saw the harsh overhead lighting and white ceiling. There were voices everywhere. Some far away, some closer. I didn’t know any of them. I felt sick to my stomach as my body was moved repeatedly and strange hands touched me everywhere. It was the familiar and much hated beeping sound that finally got me moving.
I sat up so abruptly that Jules nearly fell off the bed. I managed to catch his arm, but unfortunately it was the bad one. I may have stopped Jules from hitting the floor, but the string of curse words intertwined with harsh breaths was proof that I hadn’t prevented the younger man any pain.
I wanted to tend to him, I really did. I wanted to explain, too. But I couldn’t breathe. I needed air. I remembered my zipper before I rushed from the room, but just barely. Cool air hit my lungs, but it hurt like hell trying to pull enough of it into my starved lungs. My legs felt weak and my entire body was shaking, but thankfully, my pounding heart began to slow. Unfortunately, it and the rest of my faculties weren’t in any kind of position to speak when Jules exited the room. He was once again cradling his injured arm. If the situation had been anything other than what it was, I would have taken the time to enjoy Jules’s mussed hair where my fingers had trailed through it as he’d worked his way down my body. I would have teased him about the pink staining his cheeks.
Except it wasn’t something to tease about. Because Jules’s blank expression and inability to look at me, along with the color on his cheeks, wasn’t leftover arousal.
It was pain.
And probably a heavy dose of humiliation.
“Jules—” I choked.
“It’s okay, Flynn. We’ve both had a long day and they’ll be missing us if we don’t get back to the ranch soon.” Jules got close enough to me to pluck the car keys from my pocket. I was sure he was going to make a dash for the SUV and ditch me, but instead he said, “Stay here. I’ll bring the car to you.”
My breathing was only now starting to even out, so by the time I had enough air in my lungs to try and explain, Jules was gone. True to form, he kept his word and pulled the SUV up to the curb. I felt physically weak and mentally drained, so it seemed to take forever to get myself in the passenger seat and buckled in. Jules remained silent the entire time.
He never looked at me once.
“Jules—” I began in hopes of finding a way to explain my harsh reaction, but I didn’t make it to the “it’s not you, it’s me” part before Jules cut me off with one simple word.
Don’t.
I spent two days trying to get him to speak to me again, but his response hadn’t changed.
Don’t.
I’d heard the same word every time I’d managed to track him down on the ranch and yet that was all he’d say. At times, he hadn’t even needed to say the word out loud because everything about the way he held himself in my presence practically screamed the word.
Gone were the verbal jabs. He didn’t sneak looks at me when he thought I wasn’t looking. No matter what words I used to begin the conversation that would give me the chance to explain my behavior in the motel room, they were cut off almost instantaneously with that cutting word.
Don’t.
The hardest part was that even the few times I’d kept talking after he’d commanded me not to, he merely tuned me out. He didn’t try to escape to the house or come up with an excuse to leave wherever we were. He merely continued on with whatever he was doing. I’d ceased to exist. All his light was gone, stolen from him by a coward who’d been inadvertently toying with him from the moment we’d met.
I could live with the fact that Jules had no desire to speak to me, but what I couldn’t deal with was that I was the one who’d stolen that special light of his. I was the one who caused him to fake happiness whenever I saw him interact with Brooks and the other few people he had contact with.
With every disappointing encounter, my guilt turned to angry guilt. I was a selfish asshole, and I could live with a lot of things, but I couldn’t be the reason Jules stopped being who he was. My gut was telling me that ever since he’d been attacked in town, he’d had to give up the very things that were a part of his identity. I hadn’t seen any polish on his nails. He might have had some kind of eyeliner on once or twice, but that had been the first couple of times I’d run into him.