Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 70630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 283(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70630 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 283(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
“Jeremy, you in there? You okay?”
"Yes. I will be.”
I reached behind me and fumbled with the lock. The door swung open, and I nearly fell. David caught me before I hit the floor.
“Did that son of a bitch hurt you?”
“What the hell?” Tony said, scowling.
I shook my head. “I just want to go home.”
"Yes,” David said, steadying me. “We’re going.”
Connor
I stared at my phone as I poured a bowl of cereal, not even pretending I was going to eat it. I’d called Jeremy last night—because I couldn’t break my promise to Sabrina—and of course, he hadn’t answered. I hadn’t expected him to. Still, like a complete fucking idiot, I called him again. And again. And again.
At least I hadn’t left any voicemails begging him to talk to me. Small mercies. But the sad part? I was actually considering calling again.
If he wanted to talk to you, he would've answered one of the five thousand times you called last night.
Maybe he was just—
No. Screw that. I wasn’t going to sit around second-guessing every possibility. I was going over there. I’d say what I needed to say. And then, if he still wanted me gone, I’d go.
I dumped the cereal in the sink, untouched, and stomped down the hall to take a shower. I didn’t even remember washing myself afterward. I just went through the motions like muscle memory took over. Five minutes later, I was dressed and grabbing my keys like my life depended on it.
What if Jeremy wasn’t home?
He had to be. It was still early.
But what if someone was there with him?
Maybe he went out last night. Maybe he brought someone home. The thought twisted my stomach so hard I almost doubled over. Someone else’s hands on him—someone else in his bed. I clenched the steering wheel before I even started the truck.
Fucking shit. Fuck.
I wanted to kick something. No—someone. Preferably, whoever the hell might’ve touched Jeremy. And hard. In the goddamn face.
Jeremy
The rest of the night was mostly a blur. I only vaguely remembered David folding me into his car. Did he really put a towel on the seat because he thought I’d puke? I wasn’t that drunk.
Why did it feel like someone was using a jackhammer against my skull? I tried to sit up and immediately regretted it—my head nearly fell off my shoulders. Fuck. Maybe I had been that drunk. Maybe I still was.
I flopped back down and squeezed my eyes shut.
I must’ve passed out again, because the next thing I knew, David was shaking me awake. My stomach rolled with the motion.
“Leave me alone. And for God’s sake, close the curtains,” I mumbled. The sunlight pouring through the windows was way too aggressive for a human to endure.
“I tried calling you, but you didn’t answer,” David said. His voice was far too loud, like he was yelling through a megaphone inside my skull.
I heard him fumbling around on the floor. What the hell was he doing now? Eventually, he held something up—my phone? “No fucking wonder you didn’t answer. Your phone’s off. Why’d you do that?”
“Phone?” I could barely process what he was saying.
“Fuck, Connor called you eight times.”
I groaned and stuffed my head under the pillow. Connor was the last thing I could deal with in this state. “What time is it?”
“Nine-thirty.”
Still way too early. And why wasn’t this pillow muffling his damn voice?
“What the hell are you doing waking me up now?”
“I’ve got the monthly Habitat workday with my firm at eleven. Wanted to check on you first.”
I wanted to yell at him, but if I raised my voice, my head might actually explode. I reminded myself David really cared about me. He always had.
He patted my back like I was a hungover puppy. “Get up and I’ll make you a hangover special before I have to go.”
“Unnh.” That was as close to words as I could manage.
“You know you’ll feel better if you eat. Get a shower and join me downstairs.”
He left me to slowly piece together the disaster that had been last night.
Connor. Showing up at his apartment. The blowjob. The look of terror on his face. His soft, heartbreaking apology.
Then the club. The drinks. All those fucking drinks.
Tony.
The bathroom.
David saving me.
I shivered. When I made it downstairs, I needed to thank David for that. If he hadn’t come in when he did…
No. I couldn’t let my mind go there.
I peeled back the covers and made it to my feet, though every step toward the shower was a challenge. The hot water helped clear my head, though not nearly enough. I kept thinking about what David had said—Connor had called. Called while I was at the club. That was why I’d turned my phone off. But he’d kept calling?
Had he left a message?
Don’t get excited. Doesn’t matter what he said or why he called. Stay away from him.