Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 100226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Not just any eyes.
Stark blue, intense, Holden eyes.
I glance over, and sure enough, he’s watching us with his jaw clenched and his eyes hot, and it almost makes me laugh.
Instead, I let out a deep sigh.
This man is so damn confusing. He doesn’t get to be territorial when it comes to me. He made it clear that he didn’t want me.
But apparently, he doesn’t want anyone else to want me, either, because he’s convinced that Bridger and I have a thing going, but we don’t. And I refuse to tell Holden that because it’s none of his goddamn business.
For the next hour, Bridger and I chat and laugh, and finally, he tosses some bills onto the bar and stands up.
“I’d better get home,” he says and leans in to hug me tight. Bridger gives the best hugs. “You okay?”
“Oh, yeah, I only had one drink, and you know I don’t live far. I’m glad I got to see you.”
“Same goes.” He pats my shoulder and then leaves, and when the door closes behind him, I feel Holden standing next to me.
“What the fuck is going on between you two?”
And just like that, my back is up, and I regret not drinking more and feeling responsible for this asshole.
Slowly, I turn on the stool and look up at him, my gaze raking over his torso, neck, and then his face.
He’s so…broad. Muscular. Tall. Strong.
And such a pain in my ass.
“Hello, Holden.”
“Tell me,” he says, bracing one hand on the bar and the other on the back of my stool, caging me in.
“No.” I push my empty Coke glass away. “I don’t think I will. Are you about done drinking for the night?”
“Why, baby? You want to go home with me?”
My heart stutters at that, and I feel the goddamn blush move over me, effectively embarrassing the shit out of me.
Fuck. This. Shit.
“I was trying to be nice,” I grind out through clenched teeth. “Because you had a hard day, and you’re drunk, and I was going to stay sober and help you home. But you know what? Shame on me for dropping my guard for even one fucking minute when it comes to you and your bullshit. You’re such a piece of shit, Holden. Find your own way home.”
“Shit, I’m sorry, Ro—”
“Don’t you fucking dare.” I get in his face now, glaring at him and ignoring the heat coming off of him. “You will never call me that again. Do you understand me?”
He swallows hard, clearly more sober than when he walked over here, and nods.
“Yeah. Got it.”
Without another word, I turn away from him, hop off the stool, and stomp out of this fucking bar all the way home.
My heart is going to come flying out of my chest at any moment, it’s beating so hard. I haven’t heard that name roll off his tongue since that morning in the field, when I was ready to pledge my undying love to him and beg him to marry me.
He will not do that to me ever again.
Fuck Holden Lexington.
CHAPTER TWO
HOLDEN
Someone is trying to kill me by jackhammer to the goddamn head. My whole body hurts, and it tastes like I ate a skunk.
“Fuuuuuuck.”
“Wake up.”
Suddenly, I’m sprayed with cold water, and I slit one eye open. Staring back at me with a frown on her face is my former favorite sister, Charlie.
“Stop it.” I think I said those words, but it might have just been a grunt.
“What the hell did you do last night?” she demands before spraying me in the face again.
It actually feels kind of good.
“Not a cat,” I remind her before scrubbing my hand over my face.
“I woke up to my brother sacked out on my couch, smelling like beer and bad choices. Tell me you walked here.”
“Yep.” I try to pull myself onto the edge of the couch in a sitting position, but then fall back over on my side. “Kill me. Please. If you ever loved me, just fucking kill me.”
“Aww, poor baby.” She squirts me again, and I just snort. “Get up. Who did you drink with last night?”
“Don’t know.” I bury my face in a throw pillow, but Charlie wraps my hair around her fingers and yanks me up. “Hey! Stop that.”
“You deserved a night of debauchery. I should be glad there’s not a naked woman draped all over you.”
That makes me snort again. I’ve never done that to my baby sister.
“But now debauchery time is over, and you need to sober up.”
“Don’t wanna.”
“Too damn bad. Come on, I’ll make you coffee and some pancakes to sop up the leftover beer. Jesus, go take a shower, will you? You smell like a dumpster.”
“Don’t wanna.”
I can hear her rolling her eyes as she storms away, and I decide that a shower doesn’t sound too horrible. On my way over here last night, I had the foresight to grab my go-bag out of my truck. I pick it up and take it into the bathroom with me, and thirty minutes later, I’m sitting at Charlie’s table, scarfing down pancakes and coffee.