Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 72863 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72863 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
“You’re an asshole, you know that, right?” I say as I climb into bed. He doesn’t respond, and I roll over to give him my back, and even with the alcohol still in my system, I can feel his stare on me.
It takes me a good hour before I finally drift off, and the only thing that consumes my head is him.
The door shuts, and I open my eyes to find Boston walking in, fully dressed and holding two coffees in his hands.
He walks over to the bed and holds a cup out to me as he says, “We need to leave. Get dressed.”
“Good morning to you too.”
“It’s afternoon, and it’s not good. I got no sleep because you fucking snore so loudly.”
I sit up, take the offered drink, and bring it to my lips, tasting it. “How do you know what coffee I like?” I ask, then add, “And I don’t snore.”
I totally do. Carrie hated sharing a room with me because I’ve always snored.
“Get dressed,” he repeats before he picks up the remote, turns on the television, and sits at the end of the mattress.
He watches some shit as I crawl out of bed and stand in the middle of the mess of scattered clothes on the floor from yesterday. That mess makes me smile. That is, until I catch sight of something on the nightstand that wasn’t there before. It’s a small red box. Picking it up, I slowly open it. What I find inside has me almost dropping it.
Swinging around, I find him still watching the television. “What is this?” I ask.
He turns and looks at me, briefly glancing at the rings in my hand.
“Your engagement and wedding band.”
“This is Cartier,” I whisper, my voice laced with awe.
“And?” he questions.
“When did you get them?” I ask, trying to hide my shock and guilt about my sister not being here. Getting married is a big thing, and even if this isn’t real, I wish she were here.
“This morning, while you were snoring.” His response has my stomach clenching and my pulse kicking up.
“What if they don’t fit?” I ask because these are very expensive considering where they came from, the size of the main stone, and the number of additional stones in the bands.
“I took your ring off you while you were sleeping and gave that to them for size reference.” I look down at my hand and see that my ring is missing. He pulls it out of his pocket and holds it out to me. I snatch it from his palm and slide it back onto my finger. Just before he lowers his hand, I see his ring. It’s gold in color. Simple but beautiful.
Removing the two rings from the box, I slip them onto my left ring finger.
“Do they fit?” he asks.
“Perfectly,” I whisper, locking eyes with him.
“Good. Now, go fucking shower. You stink.” He turns back to the television without another word. I throw the empty box at his head, and it bounces off. He doesn’t even react.
Mumbling under my breath, I walk past him and straight into the bathroom. I find my toothbrush on the counter and bring it into the shower to brush my teeth. When I’m done, I step back out to find him in the same spot.
“You’re a real dick, Zion, you know that?” I say, purposely using his first name. I actually don’t like it, so I won’t be using it again, but I was hoping it would get a rise out of him. It doesn’t.
“Yes,” he answers.
“Where are all my boxes of shoes?”
“Shipped back to my place.”
“Your place?”
“Yes, where you’ll be living.”
I wave a hand in the air. “Oh, no. No, we never agreed to that. I like my space. Plus, as you said, I snore.”
“I couldn’t care less. You will be living with me in my house and sleeping in my bed. End of discussion.” He stands, and I hate that he’s so much taller than me.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I glare at him as I say, “No.”
“No?” He steps closer to me. “No?” he repeats. Then he reaches out and lifts my chin, forcing me to look up at him. “You will remove that word from your vocabulary.”
“No.” I grin up at him. “You think you can tell me what to do? Did you expect to marry a fucking robot?” I bite out.
He leans down until his mouth is almost touching mine. “Control yourself. I know you know how to do it. Play the good wife.”
“I won’t be a good wife,” I tell him.
“You will be, or…” He releases my chin and steps back.
“Or what?”
He goes to his bag, picks it up, and throws it on the bed. “Say goodbye to your sister,” he finishes.
“That’s a real asshole move, you know.”
“I never once said I wasn’t an asshole. So get your shit together. Last fucking warning.”