Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
You’re not Kason’s partner. You’re his friend.
That’s important to remember, isn’t it?
But does the truth really matter if no one believes it?
I talk to security outside and let them know not to let any of the photographers in. My gut is twisted up, while they’re yelling questions at me and flashes are going off. I wish I could make them leave, but there’s nothing I can do about them on the sidewalk.
From there, I send a quick message to Hayes and Donovan, telling them I’m fine. That this is all a misunderstanding, and I’ll talk to them tomorrow.
Kason hasn’t messaged yet, and though it’s hard, I tell myself that doesn’t mean anything. It’s strange how I can know something isn’t my fault, that I’m not the one who did anything wrong, yet my brain still tries to play tricks on me. The whole night, as I’m talking with security, keeping an eye on the club, and making sure nothing major goes down, I can’t stop myself from wondering if Kason is mad at me. If this means I’m going to lose my friend.
*
I breathe out a sigh of relief when the ride share drops me off in front of my building and there are no photographers in sight. Though I guess that doesn’t mean anything. Somehow between the beach and Kason coming to my house, they figured out who I was and got photographs of us saying goodbye. It’s like they have eyes everywhere.
Just as I reach the door to the building, a dark figure steps out from around the corner. My instincts take over and I automatically swing—not sure if I’m taking out a paparazzi or a creepy stalker, but not willing to take a chance. What I don’t expect is whoever it is to dodge my punch and pull me against them.
“Let go—oh, Kason? Why are you wearing all black? Is this like a reconnaissance mission?”
“Ha-ha.” He lets me go. “I was trying to blend in, just in case. I wasn’t sure what to expect.”
Guilt immediately tries to suffocate me. “Fuck. Is this going to cause issues for you? I’m so sorry.”
“You’re sorry? I’m sorry. What do you have to be sorry about?”
A car drives by, both our gazes darting toward the sound. “Come on. Let’s go inside and talk.” I open the door and signal for him to go into the building first. Neither of us talks as we ride up to my floor, as if afraid of hidden cameras or microphones.
“Do you want anything to drink?” I ask when we’re in my apartment, but instead of a reply, Kason just pulls me into what is possibly the best hug in the history of the world.
Oh… His arms squeeze tighter around me. This is nice…really nice. I burrow my face into his chest, ignoring the voices in my head telling me to pull away.
“I’m so sorry this happened the way it did. This whole situation can’t be easy on you. Not after what you’ve been through.”
No, it’s not, but I’ve weathered worse. If the world thinks I’m with anyone, I can’t complain about it being him, someone so incredibly kind and caring. “Thank you. But I’m okay. It takes more than some judgy headlines to get me down. I just don’t want this to cause any issues for you.” I force myself to pull away from him. “I don’t want it to mess up your season or be a distraction you don’t need.” I go into the kitchen to get us something to drink. “I can’t believe they think we’re dating!”
I wait for Kason to scoff, to laugh off the absurdity of it all, joke about how ridiculous it is for someone to think he’s dating me, but silence greets me. I turn and see him watching me, head tilted slightly to the side, hands stuffed into the pockets of his black track pants.
“Wild, right?” I add, again trying to prod him along into laughing.
“We’re not dating?”
The room goes quiet except for the sound of my rapidly beating heart. The way he said that, how he worded it as a question, tells me I’ve gotten something very, very wrong. “Wait. We are dating?” falls from my lips, which is maybe the dumbest thing I could say. How can I be dating someone and not know it?
“I thought so. But apparently I was wrong. What did you think we were doing?” Kason walks my way. “I think I’d like that drink now.”
“You and me both.”
My hand shakes as I pour us bourbon. We both immediately swallow it down in quick, hungry gulps.
Kason sets his glass on the counter. “So…”
“I don’t know! I thought we were hanging out as friends. Are we not hanging out as friends?”
“We’re friends, but when I asked you to dinner, I was asking you on a date. I must not have made that clear.”