Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 97409 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97409 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 487(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
“You were going to get married to her.” He turns down a street with some houses visible between the trees.
“I was, but that ship has sailed, and I’m not ever getting back on it.” He stops talking as he pulls into a driveway.
“Is this your parents’ house?” The big brown garage door looks like it fits two cars.
“It’s my house.” His hand reaches for the handle of his truck.
“I thought you lived in Montgavin?” He nods. “And you have this house?” The two-story house looks like it’s out of a magazine.
“Technically, I didn’t buy the house in Montgavin. It’s Caleb’s. But I also have a house near the beach. And I own a couple of houses one town over from here.”
I hold up my hand. “I’m sorry, what?”
“I turned eighteen and bought a house with my grandfather. Well, he bought the house, and he just put my name on the deed. It was a fixer-upper. I spent six months working day in and day out as much as I could. Graduated from high school and went to get my contractor’s license. Started flipping houses. Did that with another fifteen houses between now and then and reinvested the money.”
I close my eyes. “Oh my god.” I shake my head, fear seeping into me. “I shouldn’t be here.”
“Yes, you should,” he says with his teeth clenched.
“No, I don’t think you understand. I can’t be here.” My chest gets so tight, I don’t think I can breathe.
He gets out of his truck and walks around to open my door. “Let’s go.” He holds out his hand.
“No, you need to take me back.” The tears come without giving me a chance to fight them back.
“Hey, baby.” He cups my face in his hands, his voice soft. “Breathe.”
“You don’t understand,” I tell him. “You don’t understand, I’m not good for you.”
“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?”
“You don’t get it.”
“You are going to get out of the truck, and we are going to go inside. I’m going to sit you down, and you are going to tell me what it is that is freaking you the fuck out.”
“You,” I whisper. “You are freaking me the fuck out.”
“Yeah, I could say the same,” he tosses back to me. “Let’s go, Collins. We’ll sit down, you’ll tell me what it is, and if you want me to take you home, I’ll take you back home. But I’m not going to have this conversation with you in the truck. You need to put your feet up.” He unbuckles my seat belt and takes me out of the truck. He presses in the code for the door with his free hand, his other hand still in mine, and pulls me into the house.
“I would say welcome to my house. But I don’t want to freak you out.” He walks directly to the left, where there is a huge couch that would probably fit eight people, and they wouldn’t even touch. The ceiling opens all the way up to the roof. “Do you want water?” I shake my head as I sink down on the couch. He sits next to me. “Okay then, let’s talk.”
I put my hand on my face. “This is so, so bad.”
“I promise you that it’s not.” He grabs one of my hands and holds it between his.
“Theo, my parents are not good people.” I swallow as I feel the tightness start in my shoulders and move up to my neck. “Everyone in town knows. They have scammed or stolen something from practically every single person in Montgavin. Haven’t you noticed how, when I’m walking down the street, people are either clutching their bags or sneering at me?” I watch his face, ready for the disgust to form on it, but nothing changes.
“When I was seven years old, my parents told everyone I was sick and needed an operation to help me survive. They got over ten thousand dollars, and it was gone in two weeks. My father bought fucking cheap metal and glass jewelry and falsely labeled it as 18K gold with genuine gemstones to sell door-to-door. He even had paperwork made to certify the fake gems.” My mouth doesn’t stop there. “We lived in the fucking woods my whole fourth-grade year. In a tent, practically homeless. They took advantage of my teacher by stealing her identity and racking up four credit cards totaling twenty-eight thousand dollars.” I put my hand on my chest, my heart hammering under it. “I turned eighteen, and they stole my identity to open credit card accounts.
“They showed up the other night and saw the fans you bought me and tried to take them to go and pawn them.” He lets go of my hand and gets up. I watch his back retreating away from me. “They are going to take one look at you, at your truck, at your house, and”—I can’t help the sob that rocks out of me—“they are going to pounce on you like a cat catching its first fucking mouse. I’m not going to put you through that. I refuse to put you through that.” All he does is look out the window. “It’s enough that when I tell everyone I’m pregnant, they are going to think I’m trapping you. Who knows what they’re going to say when I actually have the baby.”