Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83520 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83520 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Her shoulders loosen incrementally as a painful silence stretches between us. Just when I think she won’t bother with a response, she grudgingly admits, “Edmund booked us a room at a quaint little bed and breakfast in the country. I thought it might be nice to get away and relax. I haven’t been on a trip since…”
Her voice trails off and I realize that we’re both remembering Dad.
She clears her throat and glances away. “Anyway, I thought we could both benefit from getting out of Hawthorne for a couple of days. Maybe when you get back, we can sit down and talk about everything that’s been going on.” There’s a pause. “We can’t keep going like this.”
“I know.”
Her lips quirk slightly at the corners. Just when I think her expression will soften and she might even pull me in for a hug, she grumbles, “I’m serious about what I said, Delilah. You need to be on your best behavior.”
“I will, promise. You don’t have anything to worry about.”
Doubt flickers across her expression as there’s a blare of a horn from the driveway. For a moment, I hesitate before rushing forward and throwing my arms around her slender shoulders. We’ve always been so close. Especially after Dad died. I don’t want this tension to continue tainting our relationship.
Mom holds me close before whispering, “I love you, Delilah.”
For the first time in almost a week, everything inside me loosens as my grip tightens. “I love you, too.”
“Please spend some time thinking about the decisions you’ve been making and the path you’re on.”
“I will.” It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her to enjoy her impromptu vacay except…I just can’t force myself to say the words. She’s spending the weekend with a married man. At some point, it’s going to end and she’ll be devastated. I don’t believe for a single moment that Pembroke has any intention of leaving his wife.
My arms loosen before I gradually retreat. With a wave, I pick up my bag and open the door before stepping onto the tiny front stoop. As soon as I do, I realize that the vehicle idling in the driveway isn’t Duke’s pickup truck.
It’s Austin’s black G-wagon.
That’s all it takes for a trapdoor to spring open, and then I’m in freefall. Our gazes collide through the windshield as I remain frozen in place.
It’s only when the driver’s side door opens and Austin steps out of the expensive SUV that I come alive. He’s wearing dark wash jeans that hug his muscular thighs and a black hoodie with the name of his previous high school in Chicago stamped across the front in big bold letters.
My heart trips and my mouth turns cottony as the space between us disappears.
“Duke was supposed to pick me up,” I whisper as a thin waver weaves its way through my voice. Images from Monday in the girls’ bathroom flash through my brain like a slow-motion picture show.
Me on my knees.
Him pumping his thick cock.
Ropes of pearly cum decorating my chest.
Heat scalds my cheeks as I push those thoughts away.
Thankfully, I was able to avoid him for the rest of the week. I took alternative routes in an attempt to avoid both him and Jasper. I spent my lunch break in the photography studio, working on my art exhibit portfolio.
“There’s been a change in plans,” he says, leaning down to pick up my bag before stalking to the Mercedes. With one click of the key fob, the hatch opens and he tosses my duffle inside before walking back to the driver’s side door and staring at me.
My mind somersaults, trying to come up with a reason as to why this arrangement won’t work. Seconds tick by and my brain remains frustratingly blank. It’s bad enough that we’ll be forced to spend the next seventy-two hours under the same roof, but being trapped in the stifling confines of his vehicle with him?
It will be nothing short of torture.
When I don’t make a move toward the SUV, he jerks a brow. “You gonna get in or what?”
The way his green depths burn into mine has my skin prickling with awareness. Even though I try to resist the urge, I shift under his penetrating gaze. My eyes flicker away before being reluctantly drawn back again. “I’d rather ride with Duke.”
Anger cracks in his eyes like lightning. The force of it is enough to have me taking a hasty step in retreat. “Luckily for you, he’s in the backseat. His truck wouldn’t turn over this morning.”
Oh.
My shoulders slump with the realization that my fate has been sealed and I force my feet into movement. Every step feels like a slow march to my death. As I pull up along the passenger side door, I catch sight of someone already sitting there.
A girl.
She flashes me a bright smile as our gazes lock through the tinted window.