Total pages in book: 52
Estimated words: 52643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 263(@200wpm)___ 211(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52643 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 263(@200wpm)___ 211(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
I stare at the words, but I can’t send them. I can’t be trusted to make any decisions right now.
I roll out of bed and walk into my kitchen.
A knock sounds at the door.
“Coming!” I tie my robe and pull the door open.
“Genevieve Edwards?” A UPS driver holds out a shiny purple box.
“That’s me.
“Can you sign for this, please?”
I scribble on his pad before taking it inside.
There’s no return address, so I tear it open.
It’s a small bonsai tree from Brett with a note.
Water this every time you think of me.
Lauren
Liam just asked me for a break. Call me!
Lauren
I need your advice!
I sigh and set down my phone as another knock comes to the door. I open it, assuming Brett has sent something else sweet, but it’s Liam.
He looks as fucked up as I feel.
“I’m busy right now.” I barely manage. “Whatever it is that you want to say will probably be better via text or email.”
“I agree.” He nods. “We’re on the same page about that.”
“So, go away.”
“No.” He shakes his head. “I didn’t come here to ‘say’ anything.”
“Then why the hell are you here?”
He grabs my waist and pulls me flush against his chest, kissing me.
I give in and he walks me backward, shutting the door behind us.
Still kissing me, he leads me onto the balcony and pushes me against the glass door.
Pulling my robe open, he slips two fingers deep inside me before pulling them out and thrusting his cock into me all at once.
There’s no time for foreplay.
“Ahhhh, Liam.” I moan his name as he fucks me recklessly, as our bodies connect even more perfectly than they did before.
I come with his name on my lips, with his mouth buried against my neck.
He pulls out of me and heads to the door.
“Wait,” I say. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Leave.” I stare into his eyes. “Please don’t leave me again.”
“I won’t.” He kisses me and pulls me into bed.
He stays the rest of the night, making love to me and making it more than clear that he’s the only man I’ll ever truly love.
3
GENEVIEVE
On Monday morning, Brett's mutual friend Seth insists that I join him for an early morning run.
Even though my limbs feel useless, I agree to meet him at Newbury Park.
I lag behind him for the first two miles, but by the fourth, I’m in form, and my mind is much clearer.
“Thanks, Seth,” I say, panting as we reach the fountain. “Thank you so much.”
“For what?”
“Getting me outside today. This run is exactly what I needed to clear my mind.”
“I bet.” He hands me a water bottle.
“Do you want to grab a bite to eat when we get back?”
“No.” His voice is flat. “I don’t plan on talking to you ever again after today.”
“What? Why the hell not?”
“I saw you this weekend,” he says. “You were on [the] balcony fucking some other guy.”
I can feel all the color draining from my face.
“Brett told me to come by to check on you,” he says. “Your door was unlocked and you wouldn’t answer my knocks, so I was worried. But you were clearly just fine.”
“Look, Lance,” I say. “It’s not what you think.”
“Stop.” He avoids my gaze. “I didn’t tell him yet. I’ll give you until the day he returns from Japan, though.”
“Let me explain.”
“Feel free to do that.” He shrugs and picks up his backpack. “To Brett. It was nice knowing you, Genevieve.”
I knock on Liam’s door later that night and he immediately lets me inside.
As if he can read my face, he pulls me into his arms and kisses me.
“It’ll be okay,” he says. “I have to talk to Lauren, too…”
“I want to write her an apology…I have to do that.”
“Okay.”
4
GENEVIEVE
“Stunning work as always, Miss Edwards!” The dean of English slaps the latest essay on the table. “If you ever decide to take a break from law school, let me know.”
“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that actually,” I say. “Are you hosting office hours next week?”
“For you, I’ll be there early.”
I smile and pack up my things, ready to head to Liam’s and go over how I plan to break things to Brett when he returns this weekend.
As I’m walking down the steps, Brett calls.
“Hey there,” I say. “Still enjoying Japan?”
“I had to come home early.” His voice is flat. “You busy tonight?”
“No, I’m just finishing up stuff in the library.”
“Well, come over whenever you’re done.”
“We need to talk about something important.”
“I agree.” His tone gives nothing away, and I wonder if Seth changed his mind about letting me relay the bad news. “Let me know when you’re in the lobby so I can buzz you upstairs.”
“Okay.” I await his usual ’Can’t wait, babe’ or ‘Love you babe’” but nothing comes except the soft beep of the call ending.
My anxiety has taken over the steering wheel because I’ve missed the turn to Brett’s place five times in a row. I’ve written about breaking hearts before, had mine torn to shreds, but I’ve never shattered someone else’s.