Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73191 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73191 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
“Hands here.” He taps my hands and pulls them around to his front. “Hold on.”
I was never a fan of bikes growing up. Cody always said there was never any good that came from them, and who was I to argue with him?
The bike slows down as we near the shopping center, and as he comes to a stop, we both sit there for a moment.
“Don’t move.” His hand touches mine, where they rest on his stomach. He gives me a small squeeze before he pulls my hands away and gets off the bike. I sit there watching him as he removes his helmet. He then pulls mine off with ease before leaning down and lifting me up again.
People stare.
They always do when Milo is involved.
“I could have done that myself,” I tell him. Granted, I’ve never been on a bike before, but I’m sure I could get off easily enough if I tried.
“If you say so. Though you did look like a deer in headlights trying to work out how to sit on it without touching me,” he says with a raised brow.
“Why does your vest say President?” I ask, tapping the patch on his chest. When he turns around, his club’s logo is on the back of it.
He places both our helmets on the bike. No one in this town would be stupid enough to steal from anyone in the club. “What do you think it means?” he asks. He slips one hand into his pocket as we walk toward the shops. Parents pull their kids in a little tighter to their sides when they pass us, but Milo doesn’t seem to notice or care.
“I take it you don’t come to the shops often?” I say, looking around at everyone who forgot their manners today.
“No,” he answers, peering down at me.
“I think it means you run the club. But how?”
“You know it was my father’s club, yes?” I did know that much, but I always thought someone else would take over when the old man died. “When he died, it became mine.”
“Ohhh. Is that how it usually works?”
“No, but he made it clear to everyone that was how it was going to be, and everyone respected him.”
“Do they respect you?”
“You sure are asking a lot of questions today, Elizabeth.”
I shrug in response before asking, “Why are you taking me shopping?”
“You need things, and it’s payment for our next reading session.”
“So, you are going to pay me?”
The corner of his lip lifts in a smirk, and he locks eyes with me.
“I guess so.”
“Why would you offer to pay me?” I pressure him. We stop out front of a women’s shop, and he keeps those eyes pinned on me. “Cody gets that money, not me.”
“Well now you will get it and because I know pain. And even though pain likes to fester by itself, yours shouldn’t.”
I don’t know what to say to that. Why does this man think I’m worthy of his time when my husband thinks so low of me?
I turn and walk into the shop, and he follows close behind me. After picking a few things that I need, I head to the fitting room. Milo sits on one of the sofas in front as I step into the tiny cubicle. I slide my clothes off before I reach for the dress on the hanger. It’s a black maxi dress that is loose around my stomach and comfortable enough to get around in. Reaching for the zipper, I realize I can’t zip it up on my own. I think about taking it off, but when I look in the mirror, I love it. Luckily, it’s half price, so I wouldn’t be spending much on it with whatever he will pay me. And I do desperately need my own clothes.
Cody hated me in dresses, not that I complained about my clothes. I had some nice pieces, all of which were approved by him.
Deciding to ask a sales lady for help, I open the door to see Milo, one ankle propped on his other knee, his foot shaking. The sales lady next to him is leaning down as she talks to him, her tits on full display.
Milo spots me straight away, but she keeps talking, not even noticing me.
I cough to gain her attention.
She looks my way and stands straight as if she’s guilty of something.
“Is this your girlfriend, Milo? You never dated any of us back in school.” She smiles at me, but it’s forced and a little catty.
“I need help with the dress,” I say deadpan, ignoring them both and turning around to show the back. I feel it gets zipped slowly, and when I turn my head to thank her, I see Milo standing there.
“What do you think?” I ask him, looking down at the dress. His gaze doesn’t leave mine for a few heartbeats, and then it tracks down my dress.