Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 85608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
“My security is fine.” His eyes stay locked outside the vehicle like they have been since we left.
The last time we were in here together, he was reaching for me. Now, he can’t even look me in the eye. It leaves me feeling like I did something wrong.
I know I don’t regret what happened between us, but maybe he does. Maybe Fletcher showing up was a slap in the face, opening his eyes to the man he really wants.
“It’s not good enough if people are just able to walk in,” I counter.
“He has a key. He knows the security codes.”
“We need to change them.”
“It’s fine. Just leave it.”
His response is an answer in itself. He doesn’t want to block Fletcher’s access to his home.
I clench the steering wheel, but I drop the conversation like he wants.
I’m a ball of tension when we arrive at the yoga studio, and that only amplifies when he shrugs my hand from his back on the walk to the front door. I grind my back molars together but keep my mouth closed. I can’t confront him out here in the open, and it’s a clear reminder that I’m here on a work assignment.
We’ve gone from me being the one to bring that fact up to him slapping me in the face with it.
Archer enters the studio and rather than sit and wait like I normally do, I pace the length of the sidewalk, unable to even walk into the building myself.
When he leaves, sweat dotting his brow, irritation twisting his face up, I don’t attempt to touch him.
I hate that I wasted so much time trying to get my story together when I was approached about what was really going on with the man, and this now proves all my reservations.
There’s no point in bringing something to light if it’s already over.
It’s clear that the man is still willing to work with me, but whatever fire we may have kindled at the hotel has effectively been doused.
I swing by his favorite burger joint on the way back because I spent his class being pissed and forgot to order something for delivery like I normally do, but Archer tells me he doesn’t want anything. Unable to eat with the way my stomach is turning over and over, I pull away with nothing.
We don’t speak on the ride home even though I know there are so many things we need to discuss.
He watches me climb out of the SUV when we get back to his house, as if he’s confused why I don’t just drop him off and leave.
I could. Hell, I probably should, but I’ve learned enough about the man in recent months that I know the second I leave, he’s going to do something stupid. He’ll leave unprotected and all hell will break loose.
Those are the things I tell myself as I walk up his front steps anyway.
The truth is, I’m not ready to give up. I don’t want to be a part of his past, and I’m willing to stick around until he’s ready to talk. Even if it means those words will probably tell me to go fuck myself. At this point, it’s better than this sullen withdrawn man I’ve seen today.
He walks past me, making sure not to touch me, before heading upstairs. Princess barks at me before following him.
I’m left standing in the foyer of his home, alone and feeling unwelcome.
Dropping down on the couch, I pull out my phone and place an order for lunch because the man has to eat at some point. Then I turn the television on, making sure it’s muted so I can hear him if he needs me.
The day rolls by. I eat half of the lunch I ordered and put the rest in the fridge. By the time the sun sets, I’m twitchy and irritated.
I head upstairs, fed up with the fucking silent treatment although he owes me absolutely nothing. I’ve gone through every possible way the conversation could go in my head, working through them for hours and preparing what I will say and how I will respond. I feel ready to face all of it.
But then I push open his bedroom door, finding him shrouded in darkness and asleep.
I want to crawl in beside him, pull him to my chest, and tell him that I’m here for him, but if he wanted me to do any part of that he has the ability to ask.
I pull his door closed and walk away.
I don’t stop at the bottom of the stairs. I set the house alarm and walk right out the front door.
That part wasn’t so hard. It’s pulling away with his house in the rearview mirror that sets a dull ache behind my eyes, but I manage. I head to my condo because facing the guys at the office right now while I feel splayed open isn’t possible.