Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75405 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75405 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
My hand goes to my stomach. I vow that I’m going to get smarter. No man will ever trick me again. I’ll be strong and self-sufficient. I have to be…
For my baby.
Chapter 1
Lyla
Present Day
“What are you doing here?”
I can’t believe what I’m seeing. I automatically touch my hair, which is a matted mess, mostly because I’ve rolled around on the couch all day, not having the energy to get up. There wasn’t a point, anyway. That also means I don’t have makeup on. My hand goes down to my face. I don’t know what I’m trying to do. Maybe if I put my hand over part of my face, he won’t see the pimples that seem to pop up daily—a complication of either being pregnant or binging on chocolate peanut butter cups. My fingers feel a sticky, wet smear of the chocolate on my cheek near the corner of my mouth, as if to mock me.
Okay, so the acne outbreak may totally be related to the chocolate binging and not pregnancy hormones.
“You’re pregnant,” Thomas says, and a sick, white-hot flushed feeling spreads through me. My stomach rolls.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
“What?” I croak, trying to figure out how to get out of this.
“You’re preg…pregnant,” Thomas says, giving away that he’s not completely comfortable here either.
He always stutters when he’s uncomfortable or upset. He’s sensitive about it, but I never thought much about it. It embarrasses Thomas, but I didn’t understand why. You just have to spend a little time with him to realize that he’s special. He’s the kind of man a woman would feel proud to belong to. At least that’s what I always thought.
Until I discovered that he was only using me to nurse a broken heart…
I must remember that and never let my guard down around him.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I bluff, furiously wiping some of the chocolate from my face.
“Bullshit.”
“I’m serious Thomas, I don’t know where you got this idea, but I’m not pregnant.” I hope like hell he buys what I’m saying. Luckily, the room is semi-dark, and as I stand up, I’m confident that my body is hidden under the overly large sundress that I’m wearing. I’m not that far along, but you can definitely see the small swell of my stomach when I wear more form-fitting clothes.
“Then, m-maybe you could tell your father that, since he’s convinced you’re pregnant, and I’m the…the father,” he responds, point blank. He’s clearly pissed, and a lot of that is directed at me. I ignore it because I have bigger fish to fry—so to speak.
“I’m going to kill him,” I snap, talking about my father, although killing Thomas sounds like a good plan, too.
“You’ve got bi…bi…bigger problems,” Thomas says, and I open my mouth to deny him, but Thomas immediately shakes his head no. “Don’t lie to me.”
“The way you lied to me, Thomas?”
“I never lied to… to you.”
“Do you remember when we were together? Your stuttering rarely happened unless you were nervous or feeling guilty. You would have trouble sometimes with others, but hardly ever with me. I convinced myself that meant I was special,” I tell him. I hate that I sound weak and broken in front of him. I hate that I feel that way.
“You’re acting like I m-m-made promises,” he stammers, and I guess that’s what makes me feel the worst. I clearly thought we were making promises together and he truly never did.
“Why are you here, Thomas?” I finally ask. “Don’t you have a girl to chase? Or have you caught her by now? Is she everything you wanted?” Bitterness is thick in my voice. I can’t help it. I don’t try.
“I’m here because that’s what you w-wanted,” he accuses me. I blink, thoroughly confused, because I have no idea what he’s talking about.
“What does that even mean?”
“You can’t play dumb now, Sunflower.”
My eyes close, pain so intense that it almost floors me. It feels like my heart is being frozen in my chest.
“Never,” I spit out under my breath—because it’s hard to talk. He can hear me, though. I stare directly into his eyes and refuse to look away. “Never call me that again.”
“I guess I deserv-vv-ve that,” he says, his face resigned.
“And so much more,” I agree. “You need to leave.”
“If only it were that easy, Sun…Lyla. It’s not though. Y-y-you made it impossible for me to walk away.”
I have no idea what he’s talking about. Just the thought of Thomas coming back into my life fills me with panic. I don’t want him here.
Not anymore.
“I don’t understand,” I deny, shaking my head back and forth and backing away from Thomas as if he were Satan himself—which he very well could be.
“Your father tracked me down. We’re on the v-v-verge of a club-b-b war and you and I are the only ones who c-can stop it.”