Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 113142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 566(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 566(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
She wiped her fingers. “What about you?” she asked.
I sighed. “My lifestyle is even less conducive to friends. I never know when I’m going to be in town, and often when I am, I’m busy working on the last shoot or planning a job I got hired for. Like you, I’m friendly with a few people I work with. My boss, Sean, is probably my closest friend. And to be honest, we’re both so busy, we rarely see each other outside the office.”
“Ah.”
“Do you keep in touch with Emma via social media? Facebook and such? Do you save pictures of cats and share funny stories?”
“No, I’m not one for all that stuff. Not much point since I know so few people, and they all live in town. I don’t even have an account. Emma doesn’t either. At least, not a personal one. She has a business page, but her assistant handles it. We both prefer to talk or text. Are you a big social media guy?”
“I have a presence on most of the platforms, but they’re all business-related too. My people handle all that. Much like you, my circle of friends is small, and I prefer to talk rather than use Facebook to connect.” I brushed a finger down her cheek. “I guess we’re both private people.”
She smiled. “I guess so.”
“So, you work until Thursday, and Friday is lunch. Can I take you out on Saturday?”
She started to nod again but then froze. Panic flared in her eyes, and I frowned.
“What?”
She put down her pizza, wiping her fingers. “I’m done.”
“Forget the pizza. What’s wrong?”
“I can’t go out with you on Saturday.”
“Why?”
“There’s a charity event I have to attend.”
“Another command performance?” I tried to keep the sarcasm out of my voice and failed.
“Yes,” she answered in a whisper.
“What else?”
She didn’t say anything, and she didn’t look at me.
“Ally, look at me. Now.”
Slowly, her gaze met mine. “What else?”
“I have—” she cleared her throat “—a date.”
I clenched my hands, forming fists as I struggled to stay calm. “Cancel.”
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
“It’s complicated.”
There was that word again. I was beginning to hate it.
“Then uncomplicate it,” I growled.
“I, ah, sort of have a boyfriend.”
I felt as though I’d been sucker-punched. “What the fuck?” I hissed. “You didn’t think to mention that before now? Maybe when we were shopping for sheets together?”
“It’s not what you think. If you want to calm down, we can talk about it somewhere private.”
I inhaled and counted to ten. I pulled some money out of my wallet and flung it on the table. “Fine. Let’s go and talk at the loft.”
I stood and held out my hand. “Now, Ally.”
She got up and went in front of me, ignoring my hand. But she didn’t argue when I plucked the keys from her hand and opened the passenger door for her. Not a word about my head, not driving, or anything else.
We remained silent the entire trip home.
But this time, it wasn’t a comfortable one.
She sat on the stool, watching me pace. Twice, she opened her mouth to speak, but I held up my hand. Finally, I stood in front of her. Her teeth were buried in her bottom lip, and she was paler than normal, the dark circles under her eyes standing out against the pallor. I cursed myself for dragging her out shopping when she should have been resting, and then I remembered why I took her shopping in the first place, and my anger burned a little hotter.
“You sort of have a boyfriend, like someone is sort of pregnant? Is that it?”
“No. It’s not like that. I shouldn’t have said boyfriend.”
“Well, you did. After we spent the morning picking out sheets for you to sleep on when you’re here in my bed. You dropped that line.”
She cupped my cheek, and with a groan, I leaned into her tender touch. Her caress calmed me.
“Explain it to me.”
“I told you my parents were constantly pushing suitable men, ones they approve of, on me.”
“He’s one of them?”
“Bradley’s my friend. He’s a doctor—a surgeon. A good one.”
I didn’t want to hear a list of this asshole’s attributes. “Well, bully for him.”
“His dad and Ronald are business associates. They’ve been trying to match us up since Bradley moved back here after medical school. He’s older than me. We were constantly thrown together, and we went out on a few dates. He’s a great guy.”
“This isn’t helping.”
“Listen to me, Adam. He’s a wonderful man. But he isn’t the man for me. We’re good friends. That’s all.”
“Then why did you call him your boyfriend?”
“Bradley and I let them think we’re closer than we are. It gets them off our backs, and we use each other for dates for these events or any dinners we attend where our families are going to be.”
I narrowed my eyes, finding it difficult to believe any man would want to be only friends with her.