Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 74123 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74123 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
"We do," I manage. "But I like to keep my personal life private."
"Look, I'm just saying this guy might not be the best news."
"And I'm saying I'd appreciate it if you didn't butt into my business." I set my mug down and cross my arms. "Now, is there anything else you wanted to talk about?"
"Um..." He shifts in his seat again. "Well, Georgie... You know I've always... That I had... That I..."
"Yes?" I'm being a bitch, but I just want him out of here.
"I like you," he finally blurts out. "I want to get to know you better. I want to take you out on a date."
"Oh," I manage lamely.
"Yeah," he chuckles, nervous. "You know I've had a crush on you for a while now, right?"
Of course I do, but instead of embarrassing him, I just shrug.
"Well, I'd love to take you out to dinner. I went as far to ask Dinah and Katya," he laughs. "I know how close you all are, and they said you had some bad experiences lately, with the doctor, and this club guy..."
I curse inwardly. Damn Katya and Dinah. I know they want the best for me, but a date with Bill is so not on the cards for me.
"I..." I start, but Bill holds a finger up. I hate that, but I obediently quieten down.
"I just really want to show you there are still good guys around, Georgie."
"I'm sure," I reply. "And I know there's a girl out there who would appreciate the sentiment so much, Bill... But unfortunately, it just isn't me."
He pales, then a blush creeps into his cheeks. "Oh, I see."
"Yeah, and... I'm kind of... involved with someone at the moment." My own cheeks flush.
"Oh. The club guy?" He raises a doubtful brow at me.
"Does it matter?" I ask.
"Are you dating?"
I grit my teeth together, hating the fact that I don't actually know the answer.
"Thought so. Please, Georgie. Reconsider. I'd take such good care of you. Make you feel like a princess."
But I don't want to feel like a princess.
I want to feel like a slut.
"Thanks," I say. "I'm afraid I have to say goodnight now. I'm beat after my shift and I really need some rest."
"Sure.” He gets up from the couch. "You're welcome, about the wallet, by the way."
"I already said thank you.”
"Yeah, but..."
"Bye, Bill." I open the front door and look at him expectantly.
He blows out a gust of air and shakes his head, "I just think this guy is no good for you, Georgie. I'm going to keep an eye out whether you like it or not. I just don't want you to get hurt."
"I'm fine. Now, please."
He steps outside and launches into another speech. "You deserve so much better, Georgie. Someone who will take care of you, and –"
“Goodnight, Bill.” He doesn't get to finish his sentence, because I've already closed the door.
With a huff, I sit back down on the couch. I don't have time to deal with another problem right now, and besides, Bill's wrong. Jasper isn't bad for me.
He's exactly what I've always wanted.
21
Jasper
My mood is black as the night throughout my drive back to the city. Considering my volatile mood and all the dark thoughts swirling in my head, I should’ve worked out, blown off some steam; should’ve done something.
Instead, I find myself in my little Petal’s apartment. Again.
The inability to stay away has morphed from mere discomfort to being physically impossible.
After seeing Marco drag Sarah’s mutilated body out, my head is filled with the blood from the scene.
Since I couldn’t spill his own blood, I’m ready to spill something else, break it, maim it, fucking destroy it.
The fat orange cat greets me with a low mewl from his position on the couch. I ignore him and stride to the bedroom, undoing the first buttons of my shirt.
My little Petal is in deep sleep, on her side, the sheet has fallen to her waist, revealing her cotton, sleeveless robe. Even though it’s dark, the moonlight from outside casts a pale hue on her skin, making it blue and up for the taking.
The entire way here, she was the only thing I could think about.
I hate it. I fucking despise it, but it’s there like a goddamn constant.
There’s no way in fuck I’ll be able to get her out of my head any time soon and for that, she has to pay.
I have to pay, too, for not being able to push her out of my system after all this time.
I don’t make a sound as I take off my clothes and lie them on the chair by her desk, hiding the gun and knife.
My little Petal might know what I do, but I don’t want to shove it in her face just yet. She already pulls away from me after sex, letting her walls go up and her doubts consume her.