Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 86322 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86322 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
“Of course,” she said, like it was obvious. “I’ll let Kendra know at the front desk and have you sign the forms.”
“Great. Thank you so much, Rose.”
“Any time. I’ll see you soon.”
I hung up and scrunched my eyes, hating the torrent of emotions rioting through me too quick to latch onto any one. Embarrassment. Frustration. Hurt. Anger. Worry—so much worry.
Why was he there?
Why had he been so cold all week?
Was he with someone else?
Did I do something?
Did he not want me anymore?
Was he going to withdraw from our agreement?
Why did he go to The Berkshire without me?
What was he doing there?
Did I want to find out?
Did I want answers to any of it?
Fuck yes, I did.
I rolled my shoulders back, raised my chin, and slid my familiar cold, calm, in-control shields in place.
I was Aspen fucking Quinn. I didn’t hide.
LUCIAN
I stared out at the dimly lit room, but didn’t take any of it in.
The couples in various stages of intimacy, the dark furniture, the stage—all of it blurred together under the red lights. I sipped my bourbon and winced. Instead of the smooth, spicy flavors, it coated my tongue like ash.
Everything tasted like shit this week.
Setting the glass aside, I focused on my achievements since putting space between Aspen and myself. I was almost back on track with work—an impressive feat considering how far I’d fallen behind. I hadn’t understood how much I’d neglected my own business until I’d pulled my head out of my ass and forced myself to give it my full attention.
Now, I was getting back to solid ground. I stood on a newly built and reinforced foundation—alone.
To maintain my success, I worked late, either staying at the office or hiding out in mine at home until late at night. But the thought of looking over another spreadsheet or contract made me want to gouge my eyes out. I thought coming here would be the perfect distraction from mundane tasks I used to love, flavorless food, and a persistent ache residing in my chest. Yet there I sat. Seeing nothing. Tasting nothing. Still plagued by a never-ending pressure banding around my lungs.
I’m safe, I reminded myself. I’m focused. Unexposed.
I fell back on the mantra I’d used after Daria, but it didn’t comfort me as it had before.
Either way, I repeated it as I looked around, hoping Rose and Corbin would return and distract me from my apathy.
“Hey, Lucian.”
I winced, hearing the overly saccharine familiar voice, and wished I’d been left to my apathy rather than hear it.
“Emily,” I responded, my tone bored. I had nothing against the woman—other than how attached she became in our relationship. But the way she eyed me like a glass of water after months in a desert had me erecting clear boundaries. I didn’t need any extra attention.
Despite my efforts, she sat down too close beside me in the back booth. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”
“I’ve been busy.” I kept my body angled away from her, with my arm resting on the table between us.
“Right.” She huffed a laugh that sounded more like a scoff. “I’m sure wedding planning has kept you busy.”
“I’ve been busier with work than anything,” I corrected, unwilling to even voice the choices I’d made that led to the mistakes at work. I was done losing time to my relationship—I meant, arrangement—with Aspen.
She hummed in understanding and leaned closer, showing off her ample cleavage revealed by her deep-cut top. “How are you?”
“I’m good. You?” I wasn’t an asshole.
“I’m okay,” she answered with a shrug.
I blinked long and slow, bracing for whatever came next. Because I knew Emily well enough to know that tone—the gentle, feminine, almost youthful voice she used when she thought she was being a cute submissive—hinted at more.
“I miss you.”
Yet, somehow, she didn’t know me well enough to know how much the child-like naivety grated on my nerves. “I’m sure other men are vying for your attention.”
“Maybe.” She shrugged again, this time with a guileless pout. However, it quickly transformed into a heavy-lidded smile after she glanced past my shoulder and back to me. Before I could question it, she leaned in and rested her hand against my upper thigh. If someone were to look back, it would appear as if her hand were in my lap under the table. “It was good to see you again, Lucian,” she said, so close her breath brushed my ear.
I angled a direct look at her, needing her to understand she was pushing her luck, but wanting to remain polite. “Good to see you too, Emily.”
Unaffected by my cold tone, she winked and smiled as she pulled away.
Sighing, I lifted my bourbon for a drink.
“That looked cozy.”
My drink almost shot out of my nose. After a few coughs, I collected myself and brought my gaze to the entirely composed face of my fiancée. “Aspen, what are you doing here?”