Total pages in book: 162
Estimated words: 154728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 774(@200wpm)___ 619(@250wpm)___ 516(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 154728 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 774(@200wpm)___ 619(@250wpm)___ 516(@300wpm)
I jerked as the pounding intensified in tempo and volume. With a pit in my stomach, I snatched Kane’s tee from its spot on the floor, throwing it on before running out the door of my bedroom, already realizing that soon, Kane’s presence in my bed and in my life would be nothing but a memory.
“You fucking bitch!” Kiera shrieked when I opened the door.
Kiera was known to be enthusiastic, but she’d never cursed at me at six in the morning. And she was never known for a visit at six in the morning unless she’d been on a bender the night before and was craving shakshuka.
She looked sober and pissed off. And incredibly put together for the early hour. Her red bob was straight and glossy, her delicate face covered in expertly applied makeup as usual. She was wearing a pantsuit with no shirt underneath and sky-high heels. Unsurprising for Kiera—she lived in heels. I didn’t know how she did it. Why she was this dressed up this early in the morning was anyone’s guess. She might not have made it home from the night before.
“Do you not reply to texts or phone calls at all anymore?” she snapped, hands on her hips.
“I’m sorry,” I said sincerely. “I’ve been busy.”
Kiera had called and texted a whole lot since I left with Kane the night of the party. I’d been meaning to get back to her, but I couldn’t figure out how to explain everything that had happened inside a text or a phone call. On top of that, I was caught up in the hurricane that was Kane, and whatever free moment I had when I wasn’t at the restaurant, I was with him.
I’d left my friend at the wayside, and I was plagued with guilt. I wasn’t blessed with having friends. I wasn’t the kind of person with the ability to make friends. Kiera was it for me, and I’d neglected her.
“Busy?” she shrieked. “When you first didn’t reply to me after leaving the party with Kane ‘The Devil’ Rhodes, I thought you were getting banged seven ways from Sunday, and I was happy to leave you to it.” She dragged a hand through her ruby locks. “But then, enough time passed that I figured even The Devil’s stamina would’ve failed him, and your general addiction for work would’ve pulled you out of his clutches. And still, nothing.” Her hands flew back onto her waist, one hip cocked out. “I toyed with the idea that he had accidentally killed you in an asphyxiation kink gone wrong, but then your restaurant didn’t close, therefore, I surmised you were alive. Just ignoring my texts.”
Kiera’s eyes were narrowed, her nostrils flaring, and she was gesturing wildly like she did when she was excited or pissed.
“I get that you’re not into girl talk, but even you, Avery Hart, understand that I, your best friend, at the very least deserve proof of life, if not details of length, girth and preferred positioning.” She yelled the ridiculous words with passion, so I bit my lip, struggling not to laugh.
Kiera was half Italian, half Irish. She was known for her temper. As she was exhibiting then. Laughing at her would not be the smart decision. And though part of me wanted to laugh, I could see the hurt underneath the yelling. Kiera might’ve had a more active social life than me and many friends, but I knew she also considered me her best friend. Me not confiding in her, ghosting her, would never go down well. She didn’t care about the sex details—well, some of her did. Mostly, she felt abandoned. I knew her well enough to understand that.
The apology was on my lips when Kane spoke. “I think you have me to blame.”
Kiera had her mouth open, obviously ready to continue her tirade. Her eyes widened as they went toward the owner of the deep voice, still raspy from sleep. Then those eyes went down.
I followed her gaze, or tried to. Kane was right at my back, and his hand had slid to my hip, underneath the tee I had on to settle inside the band of my panties. It was a lazy, possessive gesture that he didn’t seem bothered to be doing in front of Kiera.
Kiera, who was struck dumb and currently staring at Kane. Ogling at him would be a better descriptive. Ogling at him standing in his underwear.
It was a sight; I’d give her that.
“She’s been busy with work,” he explained, rubbing my hip bone with his thumb. “And when she wasn’t busy with work, I kept her busy.”
Kane made no effort to keep the innuendo out of his tone.
Kiera blushed.
Kiera. The woman who talked about every kind of kink under the sun in mixed company, who was not ashamed of her sexuality.