Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 106774 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106774 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
“I just need something to be easy,” she says, her voice growing louder. “I just need one thing to go right, and the more men I allow into my life, the more things get fucked up. And I just. Need. A. Fucking. Break.”
She huffs, her whole body moving with the sound.
I take a step back for good measure.
“So tell me, Gray,” she says, moving toward me. “What can I do for you to make your life easier?”
She doesn’t mean that. If her pursed lips weren’t my first clue, the balled fists would give her away. It’s a total trap.
“Let’s—”
“Do not tell me to calm down,” she warns.
“I wouldn’t think of it.” Again, because the words were on the tip of my tongue. I toss up a prayer of gratitude for avoiding that trigger.
Two couples take a wide berth around us to enter Stupey’s. They give Astrid a look like she’s a circus act, and that pisses me off. I glare at them, silently telling them to mind their own damn business. I know they’ve gotten the picture when they shuffle quickly into the restaurant without a second look.
Then I turn to Astrid. She appears to be two seconds from tilting her head to the sky and screaming.
“Why don’t we take a walk?” I suggest carefully, like I’m coaxing a rabid dog. “We’re blocking the door.”
To my surprise, she stays beside me as I head away from Stupey’s.
I take a moment to reconfigure what I want to say to her, because she’s flipped the script on me. Now I don’t know how to express the things I want to say and achieve the results I need. I’m also not totally sure what results I’m after, either.
Her words echo through my head, tugging on my brain. “I just need one little thing to go right, and the more men I allow into my life, the more things get fucked up. And I just. Need. A. Fucking. Break.”
What’s that supposed to mean?
The row of buildings comes to an end. An offshoot of the sidewalk leads into a large green space filled with blooming southern magnolia trees, and their lemony scent reminds me of long days at the ranch, hiding in the tree lines from Dad so I wouldn’t have to help with chores.
I reach out and take a flower as we move by, feeling the glossy petals and fuzzy undersides against my fingers. I’m not sure how to break the ice with Astrid, and I’m afraid that the wrong approach will not just break the ice but also shatter my chances of fixing this situation. And I have to find a solution. I have to.
“I’m not heartless,” she says after we’ve walked a fair way down the path. When I glance over my shoulder at her, she’s staring straight ahead. But at least she’s regained her composure. “And I’m not a total bitch, either.”
That’s a curious start, but it’s a step forward.
“Well, I try my hardest …” I take a deep breath. If I’m really trying to make headway here, I gotta be honest. “No, that’s a lie. I haven’t tried very hard not to be a dick. I haven’t tried at all, really.”
“I’m glad to hear that because if you had, you’d be a complete failure.”
I consider her words as we turn around and head back toward the restaurant. I play them repeatedly, trying to locate the part tickling the back of my brain. She thinks I’m an asshole, which isn’t unexpected. Or a surprising revelation. And she wants me to know she’s not a bitch.
But why is it important to her for me to know that?
I spy her out of the corner of my eye. When she doesn’t think I’m watching, she almost looks like another person. Her lips are soft and parted instead of being pressed together. She moves more gently, less restrained. Her lashes appear longer, and her body is softened. The armor is gone, and a feminine vulnerability takes its place.
It’s the first time I’ve seen her as a woman and not a wench. And that fucks with me.
“Fine,” she says as the shield locks in again. “I’ll admit that I haven’t necessarily been the easiest to work with either.”
“Look at you. You admitted it, and you’re still alive.”
She glares at me, making me laugh.
I pause beneath the magnolia trees and wait for her to stop, too. She takes a few steps before she halts, slowly turning to me. Stupey’s isn’t far ahead and, once we reach there, my chance will be over. Negotiate, Adler. That’s what’s needed here.
Compromise. My least favorite word.
Astrid studies me from just out of arm’s reach, her arms wrapped tightly around her middle. This is a habit of hers that I haven’t thought much about until now. Is she trying to protect herself with this posture? Is she making herself smaller? I lick my bottom lip, trying to slow the questions storming through my brain.