Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 121946 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121946 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
I hang up the phone, annoyed.
He’s not kidding. I’m sure Erin is driving him crazy. I know she has some money, but she’s probably just used not to having to pay for her own utilities and credit card bills.
In the past, everything was automatically deducted from a fund Ronald made for her. An allowance of sorts. Even for the first year that he was gone, he paid for everything.
Shortly before Ronald died, the money just stopped getting sent out. Which was why Erin started freaking. Even with my suspicions about Ronnie’s undesirable behavioral traits, I have no doubt Erin is at fault. She must have done something for her to lose access to the funds.
And instead of owning up to her mistakes, I’m the one being forced to go to Trent and beg for more.
Which I know will cost me so much pain and suffering from him.
I’m so sick of all this bullshit.
I turn around and walk faster, my anger and frustration pouring out of me in tears.
The train ride back to Trent’s is a blur. Literally. I can’t see past the rim of hot, unshed tears coating my eyes. I swipe at them before I reach his office.
I should wait until I’m alone to cry, but I can’t hold them back. I don’t even know why I returned here. Why I didn’t say fuck it and go to class like I should’ve. But I know I’m weak right now, and I need to get out of here before anyone sees.
By the time I make it to the front door, I’m practically sobbing, and if my day isn’t bad enough, I walk into a wall.
Except it’s not a wall.
Walls don’t smell this good.
“Hold up, princess.”
Trent’s arms wrap around my shoulders, steadying me so I don’t fall over.
I feel like crawling into a hole and dying. It’s not bad enough I had to see him, but I have to see him when I’m crying and sobbing like an idiot.
With his hands still holding on to my shoulders, I continue to look at the floor, refusing to meet his eyes. But then his right hand drops, and I feel it touch my jaw. He lifts my head.
“Wait. What’s wrong?” he asks.
The care and concern in his voice is enough to give me pause.
“Nothing.”
He looks into my eyes, and it unnerves me. It makes my body fall forward, wrap around him, and cry.
Sob.
I’m freaking holding on to the enemy and sobbing into his arms.
And as much as I want to pull away, I can’t.
I physically can’t move.
Instead, my body slumps forward even more. A muffled cry escapes my lips. I let out all the emotions. The pain of the past twenty-one years. The fear of what’s to come. The heartbreak of having family that doesn’t love me.
And during my episode . . .
Trent Aldridge holds me.
That’s the most shocking part.
He holds me as I cry.
He holds me as I breathe.
He holds me as I try to pull myself together.
This man who hates me rubs his hands up and down my arms to comfort me.
A part of me knows I should pull away.
But this feeling is scarce.
Not readily available to me.
I’m not prepared to let it go just yet.
The need to bask in it for a little longer weaves its way through me.
I don’t want it to end.
Not when I know the feeling won’t be back.
I can’t remember the last time I’ve been comforted like this. Maybe never.
Eventually, and after a few deep breaths, I wake up from the dream I’m in and pull my head back to look up at him.
Blue eyes meet mine.
A million questions staring back.
I think he’s going to press and ask me why I was crying, but instead, he stares down at me before blinking. The look from before is gone, replaced with a look of confusion.
I don’t think he’s confused about me. More at himself.
Neither of us moves for a beat.
Then he drops his hands, turns, and walks away.
What the hell just happened?
Time passes way too fast. I get busy with schoolwork and the dumb papers I’m required to turn in every damn week. Buried in books, I almost forget that we are going to Cresthill today.
When I leave my room and head to Trent’s office, he’s not there.
Next, I go to the kitchen.
Nothing.
Where is he?
However, his driver, Michael, is waiting for me in the foyer after I have searched the whole damn loft.
“Mr. Aldridge won’t be riding with us, ma’am.”
A part of me is annoyed that he didn’t tell me himself. Another part is happy because I feel a bit awkward after he held me when I cried. Couple that with still remembering him in his birthday suit . . . well, maybe not being trapped with him in a small space is a good thing.
When his body was pressed against me, I was too upset to think about it, but the moment he left me, it was all I could think of. The heat dissipated too quickly when I lost his touch. His warmth was something I couldn’t understand craving.