Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Gasps erupt from the crowd just as we break through the circle of people and see Malcolm on the ground, Eric straddling him, arm held back, ready to punch. Eric’s eye is bleeding and already beginning to swell.
Shock stills me for a moment. Malcolm isn’t supposed to be here. He was eighty-sixed when everything went down between us. But even more surprising than him being let in is Eric fighting him. He’s the most golden of retrievers, and I didn’t have fighting on his bingo card. But then, I’m not sure there’s anything he wouldn’t do for Donovan.
“Eric,” Donovan says, just as the music turns off. “He’s not worth it. He’s sad, pathetic, hateful, and he’s not fucking worth it. This isn’t you.”
The room quiets, everyone watching, while Eric gives his attention back to Malcolm beneath him. “I feel sorry for you. You had the best man in the world, and you didn’t see it. I won’t make the same mistake. I’ll love him better than you ever could.”
My heart thuds against my chest. That’s what Donovan deserves—someone who sees him.
Eric shoves off Malcolm as security approaches, and I say, “Get him out of here. He’s not even supposed to be in here!” Hate drips from my words.
Adrian and Gio grab Malcolm, but he’s not finished. He’s never finished, is he? That’s not how narcissists work. “Fuck you, Anthony! You were always my least favorite, the slut of the group, whose own family doesn’t even want him.”
I freeze. Blood rushes like river rapids through my body, threatening to drown me from the inside. My skin sizzles beneath everyone’s hot stares, beneath the truth of what Malcolm said. I don’t have anything left inside me, so I turn and walk away, Malcolm’s words echoing in my head.
Lush starts feeling smaller. People are scrambling out of my way, yet it somehow feels like they’re getting closer. I rush down the stairs, to the bottom level, needing air. The front of the building will be too busy, so I hurry toward the back.
“Anthony!” I hear from behind me and almost stumble. Why is Kason Maddox coming after me?
He reaches me just as I make it to the emergency exit, typing in the code so the alarm doesn’t go off, and then I’m outside, pulling a deep breath of smoggy air into my lungs. He closes the heavy door quietly behind him, then pushes his hands into the pockets of his jeans. He’s dressed in a T-shirt with a suit jacket over it and an LA Rebels cap on backward, and I’m in…well, shit. I’m in glitter and a Speedo.
“You didn’t have to follow me.”
“Oh, thanks. I was really confused about that.” He pretends to turn for the door, a small smile on his face, and I can’t help chuckling. “You okay?” he asks, his voice serious now.
“Eh. Nothing like a narcissistic, cheating ex-boyfriend to remind you of your flaws…or perceived flaws. I have no issues with being a slut. We’re sex-positive around here.” I wrap my arms around myself, feeling naked all of a sudden. It pisses me off because I love my body, love to show it off, but despite pretending Malcolm’s words didn’t get to me, despite not seeing anything wrong with having all the no-strings-attached sex I want and enjoy, sometimes it’s hard not to let other people’s voices get to me.
“Shit. Here.” Mads takes off his jacket and wraps it around my shoulders.
“My hero,” I joke.
“It’s okay to be hurt by what he said.” Mads doesn’t seem to want to let me get away with anything.
“It pisses me the fuck off. Screw him. I can’t believe I ever let myself think anything about him was real, and I can’t stand that he gets under my skin.” I’ve worked hard to be who I am, to build myself up from where my mom, my aunt and uncle, and nearly everyone else in my life wanted to leave me.
“Yeah, well, that’s the downside of being human sometimes.”
“Being human sucks,” I agree, then snicker when I realize how silly that sounds.
“I don’t know. I kinda like it.” When I sit down on the stairs by the back door, Mads takes a spot beside me. “And your family?”
“No comment.”
“Fair enough. You’re better than him—than Malcolm.”
“I sure hope so.”
“I’m being serious.”
“And you don’t think I am?” I look over at him, and Mads shakes his head.
“I don’t get it…the cruelness in people, the way kindness has become a weakness. He reminds me of a TV show villain. I was watching Queer Crossings the other day and—”
“Wait. What’s that?”
“Oh. It’s a queer soap opera.”
I cock a brow. He’s…really fucking interesting. I’m not sure I’ve ever met anyone like Mads before. “You watch queer soap operas?”
“I do. I’m slightly addicted. They’re my guilty pleasure. You?”
“Never seen one.”