Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78093 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78093 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Stumbling backward, he gives me one last once over before jerkily walking out of the room, closing my bedroom door softly behind him. The room is so quiet now that I’m reminded of how alone I am, how alone I’ve always been. A quiet sob of pain pushes past my lips, my chest aches at the pressure inside of it.
“Nothing can save you from me…” His words haunt me all night long while I’m lying in my bed cold and alone.
Always alone.
Always cold.
“Nothing can save you from me….” I repeat his words back to myself.
Maybe I don’t want to be saved, maybe I need Vance’s hate as much as he needs to give it to me.
Chapter Six
Vance
Waking up the next morning, all I can think about are all the shitty choices from the night before. Too much vodka. Sarah. My need to be close to Ava. My head throbs like someone took a sledgehammer to it. Showering takes an enormous amount of time and effort and by the time I’m done, all I want to do is climb back into bed.
I’m never drinking again, though I suppose I wouldn’t have gone balls to the wall if it wasn’t for the fucking girl across the hall. She’s stupidly beautiful and nothing like my typical flavor of women, which only makes me want her more.
Why did drunk me feel the need to talk to her? I know why, but that doesn’t mean I want to admit it to myself. Truthfully she needed a hug just about as much as I did, and I guess my drunken self, thought right then would be a good time to give her one.
All night I had thoughts about her, about her lips, her face, the way her fear smelled earlier when she thought I was going to hurt her. I thought about how all I wanted to do was be back at the house tormenting her, breaking her down. Which in turn led me to drink a lot more than I meant to just so I could stop myself from coming back here. Which was all for nothing, ‘cause I still ended up home and in her bed.
Shaking the thoughts away, I somehow manage to get dressed and slip into the hallway. I need to eat something before I barf. Fuck me, I’m never letting Clark pour me shots again.
Even though I tell myself no, my mind reflects back to the way she felt beneath me last night. I wanted to stay in bed with her, hold her in my arms, piece us both back together, but I also wanted to hurt her. Slice her with my words, feel her pain as it poured out of her.
Her tears had surprised me. I didn’t expect her to start crying, and when she did, I couldn’t stop myself. I had to stay, just for a while longer.
When my feet hit the bottom stair, the smell of freshly brewed coffee tickles my nose. I enter the kitchen to find Ava dancing around in a pair of cute little sleep shorts and cami, headphones in her ears as she pours what looks like pancake batter into a pan. I didn’t even know we had pancake batter.
She shakes her cute ass and rolls her hips to the beat of the music that’s blasting in her ears. Fuck, I can imagine my hands gripping onto those hips as I rail into her, over and over… Turning around, she gasps, her eyes raking up and down my body at a snail’s pace.
She might not like me very much, but she definitely likes what she sees. Pulling out the earbuds, she tosses them onto the counter along with her phone that she has shoved into her bra.
“I…I didn’t know you were there.”
I roll my eyes. “Obviously.” There’s a coolness to my voice that doesn’t quite match the heat radiating throughout me. Every time I’m in her presence, I feel like I’m one volcanic eruption away from wiping out the human race forever.
She nibbles on that plump bottom lip nervously and my cock hardens. He needs to stay the fuck out of this. My feelings for her are nothing but hate and revenge. I don’t need to add fucking her to the list.
“I made you breakfast, I mean… if you want some…”
A long stretch of silence settles over us. Her doe eyes stare up at me. Why the fuck is she looking at me like that? Like she can see right through me? Suddenly I feel vulnerable and I don’t like it, not one fucking bit.
Smoke billows from the pan behind her and I grin. “You mean the breakfast that you’re currently burning?”
Whirling around with a shocked look on her delicate face, she grabs the pan, a slew of curses fill the air. She tosses the burnt pancake into the trash before setting the pan back on the stove. She pours more batter into the pan, her body fidgety as hell.