Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55738 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55738 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
I laugh humorlessly, thinking back to the date or all the moments with Fletcher when I’ve wanted to say something but felt unable to. My man is helping me break down those walls, but it’s not easy. “Yeah, better than you probably think, but—”
It was still wrong, I’m about to say, but then my cell phone starts vibrating. I take it out of my pocket and answer. “Yeah?”
“It’s me,” Fletcher says. “Could you swing by? I want you to hear this in person. It’s going to be a shock, my perfect painter.”
I wonder if James is in the room with him and heard him call me his perfect painter. “Is it about James and Lexi?” I ask.
“Yeah,” Fletcher replies, sounding confused. “How did you know?”
“Lexi just told me,” I say.
“Ah, I see,” Fletcher sighs. “You should come by anyway. There’s something else James needs to tell you.”
This doesn’t sound good. “Okay, I’ll be there soon.”
When I stand up, Lexi does the same. She moves much more nervously, her chair screeching against the floor.
“I have to go,” I tell her.
She frowns. “Are we…”
“I don’t know,” I say honestly. “We’ll talk about it later.”
Fletcher opens the door, Loki at his feet, panting and grinning at me. I still haven’t asked if there will be any fallout from what happened in the woods. I’ve heard no sirens nor seen any police officers, so that must be a good sign.
Fletcher is wearing a shirt with rolled-up sleeves and an undone top button. His hair is messy, as though he’s been running his hand through it repeatedly. When he steps forward and lightly kisses me on the cheek, I feel a flair of hope deep within. He wouldn’t do that if it were all going to come crashing down, would he?
Inside, I lean down and stroke Loki on his head. Fletcher lowers his voice, presumably so James doesn’t hear in the next room. “Just so you know, I’ve gotten word from Charles. He has some contacts with the police. They’re rehoming the dogs, and the men involved are going to jail. They were all wanted for something. The gang is pissed, but not at us. They’re pissed at the guards for letting it happen.”
“So it’s over?” I whisper.
He takes my hand, squeezes it, and nods.
That problem is over, at least, but the other problem is waiting for us in the next room. I follow Fletcher into the living room, finding James sitting on the armchair, his head in his hands. He looks up as we enter.
“Hello, Samantha,” he says in a small voice.
“Uh, hey,” I reply, almost like I’m speaking to somebody else, not the James I met on that first date. He seems far more withdrawn.
Fletcher sits on the couch. Loki immediately jumps up into his lap. I sit beside him, keeping some distance between us, just in case. Heck, just in case James still loves me? What a joke.
James’ gaze lingers on me for a while. Finally, he says, “I wanted to… I have to… No, you deserve… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been so rude to you on that date. After, I shouldn’t have sent you those flowers or that stupid singing stunt. It’s just—”
“I know,” I say. “Lexi literally just told me. I was a checkers piece in a game between you two.”
He shakes his head. “That’s only part of it. There’s more.”
Fletcher gives me a you-better-listen look. I bite my lip, then let it go—that freaking annoying habit. Fletcher smirks. I grin right back. It takes less than a second. I wonder if that’s what marriage is like: secret looks, wordless communication.
“James?” I say when he stares at the floor.
“I heard my dad on the phone with you,” James says. “He knew I’d gone on a date with you, but he pursued you anyway. That’s when I came up with the whole love-at-first-sight thing. I wanted to see who he’d choose. I wanted to see if he’d put his feelings aside for me.”
Fletcher audibly swallows. I glance across the couch to see tightness at the corners of his mouth and eyes. The guilt emanates from him, almost like I can see it.
“It was a test,” I murmur.
“Yeah, sort of.” James shakes his head, picking at the arm of the chair with his fingernails. “It was immature as hell, honestly. I just… I wanted to see who he’d pick. You have to understand that when I did this, I didn’t think Dad really cared about you, Samantha. I just thought it was a fling or a pickup or… You know, I wasn’t sure. Dad doesn’t date, not since Mom.”
Emotion enters James’ voice. I’ll never mention what Fletcher told me about only being with Margot because she got pregnant after a one-night stand. It’s not my place, and the last thing I want to do is cause him unnecessary pain.