Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 91363 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91363 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
At the top of the stairs, there was arguing coming from the room next to the bathroom. It was Matt and Julianne. Despite it being none of my business, I leaned toward the door to hear better.
“Maybe your mom is only thinking of herself,” Matt said. He dragged out each word.
“You’re drunk,” Julianne replied.
“So are you. Maybe if you’d sober up, you’d see that putting yourself first isn’t always bad.”
“I hate it when you get like this.”
“Well, I hate that you’re fucking leaving me!”
I jumped at Matt’s outburst.
“Grow up! Not everything is about you.”
They were just making out. What happened?
“I thought we wanted this. If you loved me like I love you, it would be about us, not just me. Christ, Jules … you’re making me into the enemy so you don’t feel guilty about ending things.”
“I’m done. This is over. You can try to make me feel bad for taking care of the person who raised me, but that’s on you. Go find someone who thinks you’re the only person who matters in the whole world.”
“Good riddance, babe. Don’t call me when you figure out your mom is fucking messed up.”
“Screw you.”
I stumbled onto my ass when Julianne suddenly flung open the bedroom door and stormed out. She stopped for a few seconds, eyeing me with confusion while she wiped her tears. Then she ran down the stairs.
“FUCK!” Matt yelled.
Before I could find my feet, he stepped out of the bedroom, stabbing his hands through his hair. And just like Julianne, when he saw me, he paused.
“I uh …” I scrambled to my feet, tugging at my skirt. “I was, um … on the way to the bathroom and she came out and I fell back. But not like it was her fault. And I totally didn’t hear anything …”
Matt squinted at my shirt, so I glanced down, forgetting about the beer. I pulled the wet cotton away from my chest. “Someone spilled their beer on me. I was just going to clean—”
“Come on,” he said, grabbing my arm and pulling me into the bathroom, then kicked the door shut behind him. “Take off these fucking boots,” he said like he was mad at me or the boots.
I gasped when he lifted me onto the vanity. His bloodshot eyes met mine for a second before his gaze homed in on my wet T-shirt. I pulled the material away from my skin again. He lifted one of my legs and unzipped my boot, slowly removing it while staring at my chest. “We broke up,” he murmured before removing my other boot.
“I’m sorry.”
Matt let my boot drop to the floor. “That’s life,” he murmured.
“She uh … she was really nice.” My voice shook.
“I’ll get you a clean shirt,” he replied just above a whisper, but he didn’t move. Instead, he lifted my shirt above my head so quickly, I didn’t have time to think, let alone stop him.
Ohmgoshohmygoshohmygosh!
I covered my bra with my arms, and his drunken gaze returned to my face. He had the saddest expression I had ever seen. “I have the worst luck with women.”
What was I supposed to say? Even fully clothed, I would not have had a suitable response.
“You’re the prettiest one,” he said before wetting his lips.
Not only were my arms covering my breasts, they were preventing my heart from breaking through my chest. Matt was intoxicated, and I should have skedaddled, but the man of my dreams had me ensnared.
“Sarah and Eve were pretty like,” he twisted his lips, “conventional pretty, but nothing special. But you have this tiny mole on your cheek. And from a distance, it looks like a cute dimple.” He smiled. “And your eyes are mesmerizing and full of …” He blinked heavily. Yes, he was so drunk, but I pretended he wasn’t.
“Lashes so long.” He tried to touch them, but he nearly poked my eye. That made him grin. “And another tiny mole”—his thumb caressed along my cheek toward the corner of my eye—“right here. You’re just so very, like a lot … really pretty without all this stupid makeup.”
I was embarrassed by our close proximity with my shirt off yet amused by his fumbled and uncensored words.
I withdrew from his touch, looking for space, clarity, and an escape route. “You’re drunk,” I said with a nervous chuckle.
He bobbed his head in contemplation while curling my hair behind my ear on one side. “I’m not not drunk.” He laughed. “But I still know what I’m fucking talking about.” His gaze dropped to my chest, and he narrowed his eyes for a second before stepping backward and pinching the bridge of his nose while bowing his head. “Shit. I took off your shirt. That was wrong. I’ll get you one of mine. God, what was I thinking. I’m uh …”
“Nope, um … it’s fine. Well, I know I have to go. My ride is waiting for me. You’re not in a good place or sober. And uh …”