Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 72853 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72853 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
“Technically, it doesn’t,” I counter. His eyes flash. We’re fighting the same fight here, but he’s looking at me right now like I might be a potential adversary, and he’s very wary about this. “I’m not playing games, Patrick McDonald. That’s not my style. The marriage has an expiration date. We both agreed to it. And if we’re not in agreement about extending it, then that’s fair. But me finding you adorable? We agreed to be a part of each other’s lives after this, so I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.”
“Baby goats are adorable,” he huffs. He spins his chair around and gives me his back, which literally hits me straight in the chest as a bombardment of emotion. Rick will never show someone his back—his most vulnerable spot—unless he trusts them. “I’m more like a snake.”
“I’m sure baby snakes are adorable.”
“Baby snakes grow up to be big enough to swallow a crocodile.”
“Those are adorable too. Big snakes, small snakes. Small crocodiles, big crocodiles.”
The chair whips around. I’ve clearly pissed him off with my obstinacy, but you know what? I’m not sorry. If he’s looking for a worthy opponent, then I’m going to be one, but only because we truly are fighting for the same thing in the end. I hope it’s his happiness. And I hope it’s my happiness too. I hope we might somehow find that together, even if it’s just as pen pals.
Oh, for the love of big snakes, we can’t be just pen pals.
Fuck it, I’m moving here.
I’m going to make good on my threats. Rick needs someone close to him. Or I’m going to ask him to come to Atlanta. Maybe he’s only being so edgy right now because he’s started to open up, and it’s painful, and he thinks he’s going to be hurt. He thinks I’m just going to move on and leave him and forget him, except when it comes to dropping him a line every now and then to talk about nothing at all.
Well, he can think again.
Because it’s not happening.
“Is this really just about sausage rolls? Fine, I’ll have one. I’ll even have two. Or three. If you just promise to leave me alone for a few hours to enjoy the creation of my pool.”
“You truly can’t do that with me? Enjoy something?” I ask.
“I can’t enjoy it if you’re going on about how adorable lethal creatures are.”
“They can be both,” I insist.
“You are one of the most maddening people I’ve ever met. Your brother was decidedly not like that at all. He was one of the least stubborn people I ever met.”
Ouch. I raise my shoulder in a shrug anyway because he’s right. I can’t get mad over him pointing out a truth, and one I’m often quite proud of. Jace wasn’t stubborn, whereas I can be like the good old mule that is the epitome of stubbornness, even though I’m sure mules are freaking awesome creatures in their own right. They can be both too. Stubborn and awesome.
“I’m only maddening because I’m right. And you are, too, by the way. I’m stubborn. Crazy stubborn. I like to think it usually translates more as a good thing. Tenacity can be great. It just means I’m willing to stand firm on what I believe.”
“And you believe proving to me that I’m adorable is worth all of this?”
“I believe proving to you that you’re great is worth all of this and more. I also believe proving to you that I’m going nowhere is worth all of this. I know you’re not trying to hurt me. You’re just a prickly pear because life has taught you that it’s best served up with thorns on the outside to keep the rest of you safe.”
“Ugh, the metaphors. They’re so overused,” he grumbles.
“I apologize for being a walking stereotype. Do you want sausage rolls? When was the last time you ate?”
“I don’t need you to take care of me, Aspen. I thought I’d made that clear.”
“Alright. I can shut the blinds, and you can take care of me then. You can eat my pussy and feed me your cock. I’m absolutely starving, and I can openly admit it.”
“Oh my…” He looks like he’s going to stroke out.
He doesn’t know what to do with me right now. But he’s not the only one. I don’t go around saying wonderfully nasty things like that. Ever.
I’m the one who walks over and shuts the blinds. Then I walk to the door and close it too. It has a lock, which is a great thing since there are people moving around out in the yard. I’m not taking any chances. Once I’m sure the room is secure from anyone seeing in or walking in, I move back to the desk. I strip off my crop top and shimmy out of my jeans. I leave my bra on. It’s one of the few super nice ones I own. It’s black with little rosebuds all over it, and it’s trimmed out in expensive-feeling lace. I have the matching panties somewhere, but I forgot to pack them, so I settled for plain black because it kind of matches.