Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 95350 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95350 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
I lurched back, my heart in my throat, looking up into cold, blue eyes glazed from too much drinking.
“What are you doing here, Bodie?” I tried to sound irritated, but the shock left me breathless.
“I always knew there was more going on between you two,” he sneered.
It was on the tip of my tongue to correct him, but it was none of his business. “Fuck off, Bodie. You have no right to be here.”
I moved to unlock my door, trying to hide my desperation to get inside, when suddenly, a rough hand gripped my shoulder and spun my back to the door. He towered over me, but I refused to drop my chin and look away.
“I have every right to be here,” he ground out through his clenched jaw. “A fucking year with you. For what? To be dumped over some stupid argument? I don’t fucking think so.”
“Bullshit,” I spat back. “You’re an abusive asshole who gets off on hurting me.”
“I never hurt you,” he denied like I was crazy.
A haze of red tinted my vision, and my head swam. Rage so intense like I’d never felt before consumed me, and I clenched my fists by my side, afraid I would rip his fucking face off if I let loose. “I still have bruises from last week. I have spent the last year skipping events to hide them. I have spent the last year perfecting covering up where you’d ‘grip too hard’ or ‘accidentally push me.’ Don’t you dare pretend you are anything but a conniving pussy who needs to abuse women to feel better about yourself.”
He bared his teeth and raised his fist. I flinched before I could stop myself and held my breath, only to let out a yelp when it collided with the door beside my head. I waited for someone to come out and check on the noise—they had before. Except this time, I wouldn’t lie and pretend we were two lovers against the door to keep any gossip out of the newspaper. No, this time, I’d throw Bodie under the bus.
“It’s not me,” he bit out inches from my face. “It’s your bitchy attitude and that fucking mouth of yours. Maybe that’s what Austin likes. Or maybe he just fucks your face with his tiny cock to make you shut up. You always did suck on my cock like a filthy whore.”
“Fuck you.”
He glowered, but I refused to relent. “It should have been me.”
“It was never going to be you. Now get the fuck away from me before I call my husband. And once he’s done pummeling you, I’ll call the cops.”
Time stood still, and I counted the seconds until finally, he backed off with a growl.
“I’m not fucking done with you.”
I watched him until he disappeared behind the elevator doors. Only when I knew he was really gone did I unlock the door with shaky hands and fumble inside. As soon as I turned the locks, I dropped my bags and stood in the middle of my living room, sucking in deep breath after deep breath. The adrenaline fled, leaving me tense and shaking. I ripped my ponytail free and dug my nails into my hair, relieving the pressure.
Soon everything slowed down, and instead of the crash that usually plagued me after leaving Bodie, elation and joy flooded my veins. I smiled, proud of myself for standing up—for being the strong woman I knew I was. I smiled because I realized that Bodie hadn’t taken that from me—he hadn’t won.
I replayed the words I used to cut him like a knife as if I was re-watching my favorite part of a movie. Each time felt better than the last until the reel skipped and blurred over a certain part.
The part when I called Austin my husband and hadn’t hated the sound of it.
Chapter Nine
Austin
Neither one of us moved to get out of the car. We both sat there, as silent as the rest of the drive had been, looking up at the white beach house mansion. Other cars lined the driveway, and I knew as soon as we stepped through those doors, we’d have to become the happy couple we promised to be. I’d hoped we’d have a few minutes to get situated before meeting everyone, but I had a project meeting I couldn’t miss, making us not so fashionably late.
Subtly, I shifted my gaze from the house to her. Her long lashes curled up to the perfect arch of her brow. My fingers tingled with the urge to run them down the curve of her cheek to her full lips, bare of the rosy lipstick she wore when I picked her up. She’d spent the entire drive biting her lips—a sure sign of her nerves. She hated having a tell, but I loved the way the lush curve of her bottom lip gave way under her straight teeth. The best part was when she followed it up with a quick swipe of her tongue to soothe the bite.