Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 78867 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78867 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Legend coughs a laugh, and when I look over, I find Spade staring at me like I’m a spoiled brat.
The thought of him spanking my ass in punishment flits through my head, and I shut that shit down as fast as it showed up.
“I don’t even know his real name,” I argue, my attention right back to my best friend.
This is a weak argument at best because I know the vetting process that Cerberus goes through, and I’m not in any danger spending the next couple of days with this man.
I barely resist the urge to stomp my foot to get my point across.
“Dylan Pratt,” the devil himself offers.
I keep my eyes on Faith, narrowing my eyes further when her lip twitches as if she’s trying to stop a grin.
“Grab your stuff and let’s hit the road.”
“I’m fine going alone,” I tell the group in front of me before turning around and going back inside.
I struggle to zip my suitcase, grunting loudly when I pull it off the bed and the damn thing nearly hits the top of my foot.
Reaching for my overnight bag, I startle when I hear his voice right behind me.
“It’s two days, three at the most. Why did you pack so much shit?”
I jump back like I’m facing a poisonous snake when his warm hand covers mine, his long fingers now gripping the handle on my suitcase.
I don’t answer him, but I don’t think he was expecting it. My mouth is hanging open as he leaves the room, the strap of my overnight bag somehow now on his shoulder.
I know I may be overreacting. I know if the man actually remembered our night together, I’d be jumping for joy at all the possibilities these next couple of days could hold.
But he doesn’t.
How in the world can the best night I’ve ever experienced sexually be so easy for him to forget? I just can’t wrap my head around it. How can something so monumental to me not even register to him?
I had options when I faced him at the care facility on Veterans Day. I could’ve easily flirted back and tried to get him to remember, or get pissed, striking out defensively, because let’s be honest, the man hurt my feelings.
Obviously, I chose the latter, and now that I’m firmly in that position, I don’t see a way out of it. It’s making me hostile and affecting nearly every damn action I take.
With a long, deep breath, I decide to settle on indifference. I’m a goddamned adult. I can act like one, and when this trip is over, I never have to see the man again.
I walk through the house, giving it one final look before grabbing my purse, checking to make sure I have my cell phone, and stepping out onto the front porch and locking the door behind me.
“You owe me for this,” I mutter to Faith.
“Call me if you run into trouble,” she tells me.
“Besides the one that’s—” I grind my teeth as I watch Spade drop into the driver’s seat. “This whole fucking trip will be nothing but trouble.”
“You’ll need this,” Faith says, holding out a manilla folder.
“Thank you,” I tell her with as much genuine gratitude I can muster right now because I am thankful. It’s just difficult right now to express it through my annoyance.
In my pettiness, I walk as slowly as I can to the passenger side of my car, trying not to grin when I see him struggling with getting the seat back far enough so he isn’t folded in half like a taco.
I’d never tell him this, but I wasn’t looking forward to the drive this evening. I was dreading having to focus on the road for three long hours as much as I’m not looking forward to knocking on Naomi’s door and telling her that if she can’t get her shit together quickly, I’m going to have to sell the house.
Instead of speaking to him, I climb into the car and plug in my cell phone, pulling up the address on the Map app.
He grumbles about my car being too fucking tiny, but I ignore him. His attendance isn’t something I asked for, and I feel no need to make accommodations nor excuses for his comfort.
That’s how the entire trip is spent, in complete silence with only the navigation giving direction on occasion.
It should be relaxing, but I’m more wound up as we draw closer to Telluride than I was seeing him on his bike in my driveway.
Chapter 8
Spade
Silence doesn’t bother me. It never has. I prefer it over small talk any day.
The clubhouse is always noisy. Not necessarily in a bad way, but when there are so many people in the same space, it’s difficult to get a moment alone without spending it in my room. So the quiet of the drive was a welcomed one.