Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 71396 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71396 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 286(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
My throat tightens. “But don’t you think people will judge me?”
“I don’t know,” he says truthfully, and it’s not the answer I wanted. “You’re not theirs to define, so you can’t worry about those things.”
I let out a slow breath, my chest loosening a little, but I’m still frustrated. “You really don’t see it as me… rebounding?”
Reid leans in, kisses the center of my forehead. “No. I see it as you finally choosing what’s right for you. And I see it as me finally being lucky enough that our timing lined up and that I’m smart enough not to let a good thing go again.”
His words settle deep, a balm to my chaotic thoughts.
“I don’t want to feel icky about this,” I murmur. “I just… I don’t want to think I’m doing something wrong by being happy.”
“Then don’t,” he says gently. “There’s nothing wrong about this. Not for me. And not for you. And frankly, no one else matters.”
“Lance matters,” I whisper, and Reid’s eyes narrow slightly. “I mean… this is going to devastate him. When he finds out we’re together.”
“Good,” he growls. “I hope it fucking hurts bad, and I hope it hurts every time he sees us together. I hope the pain never dulls. That fucker deserves it.”
“Reid,” I admonish. “He’s your brother.”
“He hit you,” he grits out. “He gets no pass from me on that. Not now, not ever.”
I don’t argue with him because it’s still very raw for Reid. It is for me too, but I know I’ll forgive Lance. I know I’ll move on, and I won’t hold a grudge. I’ll be grateful for what we had, but I also know that what I have is the future that is meant for me. I can’t harbor bad feelings when I know my happiness is only going to grow from here.
Reid cups the back of my head and presses his lips to my forehead. “I’m going to get some water. Want some?”
“Yes, please.” I follow him out of bed, using the restroom and making it under the covers before he returns. I grab my phone from the pocket of my jeans and just as I’m unlocking it, Reid walks in with a bowl of chocolate ice cream and two bottles of water.
The water was sweet, but the ice cream is next level. “You are a god.”
He smirks as he slides in next to me. “I’d prefer if you tell me that in closer proximity to the orgasms I deliver.”
I snort as I navigate to my texts. Reid takes a spoonful of ice cream and practically shoves it in my mouth.
“Mmm,” I groan, licking my lower lip. “So good.”
“Chocolate’s your favorite,” he says.
“And strawberry is yours,” I quip, eyes moving to my phone. The ice cream seems to curdle in my stomach as I see a new text from Lance. I hadn’t heard from him all day yesterday or today, and it fostered a sense of hope that this break up would be easy.
“Lance texted me,” I whisper.
Reid stops with a spoonful of ice cream halfway to his mouth, then lowers it into the bowl. He doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t look at my phone. Just watches me.
I want to ignore it, but I can’t not know what he’s sent, so I bend my head and read:
I know you probably don’t want to talk to me, but I just wanted to tell you again how sorry I am that I hit you. I don’t know how to fix this, but I want to. To at least preserve our lifelong friendship. I hope you’ll talk to me soon. I still love you.
I lift my head, find Reid watching me and then hold the phone out for him to read the text. His gaze doesn’t drop though. He’s silently asking permission even though I’ve given it. I push the phone at him and he sets the bowl of ice cream down before he takes it.
I watch as his eyes fly over the words, and I don’t miss the twitch of muscle in his jaw.
He looks up, hands the phone back to me. “What are your thoughts about what he said?”
I lift my shoulder, reading Lance’s words again. “I’m a little disheartened. He thinks we can work this out and honestly, I don’t want this to be a big, drawn-out argument. I just want him to accept that we’re done and I want to reply right now telling him that, but text is not the way to do it.”
“Are you ready to see him? Or talk to him?”
I shake my head. “No,” I admit quietly. “I need to be strong and ready to hold the line with him. Right now… I feel a little fragile.”
“Then text him back, tell him you appreciate the message but you’re not ready to talk to him and want space. If he meant what he texted, then he’ll respect that.”