Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 63786 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63786 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
When he leaves, Henry runs a comforting hand up and down my back.
“Bring me up to speed.”
“He wants to look after me and the baby, but that’s as far as our interactions will go. Which is fine by me. There are plenty of other things I’d rather be doing than interacting with him.”
“Are you sure? Because the chemistry I witnessed between the two of you earlier was off the charts.”
He’s not wrong. But then, chemistry has never been an issue between us. It’s been there from the very start of us and even now, as we come to the end of us, that chemistry doesn’t show any sign of dying.
But that chemistry confuses things. Clearly.
I think about the intense orgasm I just had up against the wall and feel myself flush with both anger and longing.
“That won’t be a problem,” I say, and I mean it. Because if Lev is going to treat me the way he just did, then I don’t want him in the same room as me, let alone close enough to touch me. “He will stay out of my way, and I will stay out of his.”
32
LEV
“I think you need to give Brooke a break,” Feliks says, waltzing into my study.
Five minutes ago, I was sitting behind my desk, enjoying the numbness brought on by the four vodkas I had just downed. That was until my irritating cousin decided to walk into my study and tell me what a dick I’m being.
Which makes me more petulant than I’m already being.
Because I’m not blind, I know I’m being a dick. Doing that to Brooke. Treating her that way. But I can’t seem to control it. I see her, and everything hurts, and I am programmed to avoid pain.
And I don’t need this mudak reminding me what a fucking nightmare I’ve created for myself.
“She seems genuine,” Feliks adds annoyingly.
“Does she?”
“You don’t believe her?”
“I believe she’s a good actress.”
She’d have to be to fool me into thinking she felt something for me. Oh, I know she felt everything for me in bed. My little bunny wasn’t shy in letting me know what felt good and how I made her feel, usually crying it out when I was making her come. But I thought she felt something for me outside of my bed too.
But that was just one of a series of mistakes I made the moment I laid eyes on Brooke Masters.
“You still think she’s lying?” Feliks asks.
“Of course she is. She wouldn’t be the first person to tell me what I want to hear when I’ve caught them out in a lie.”
“Well, I believe her.”
“You’re the one who brought me the pictures of her talking with the FBI agent. You’re the one who told me Bastik was denied parole. You’re the one who convinced me her betrayal was real. And now you’re telling me you believe her?”
Christ, my head hurts. And not from the vodka. It’s from the exhaustion of denying my feelings toward her. Yeah, I’ve drunk enough vodka to admit it.
“Sure, I presented the evidence. Doesn’t mean she’s guilty.”
“Oh, she’s guilty, alright,” I murmur, bringing my fifth vodka to my lips and knocking it back.
This isn’t like me. I never drink to the point of inebriation because I like to remain in control at all times. But fuck it. Tonight, I need it to take the edge off.
“What about the informant Agent Michaels said he had in the bratva? Has your contact mentioned any more of it?” I ask Feliks.
“No, that avenue of information has dried up. But I’ve reached out to Olivia to see if she can help me.”
“And?”
“She hasn’t gotten back to me.”
“Try again,” I snap, pouring another vodka from the bottle sitting on my desk.
I tell myself I will drink this one how vodka is meant to be drunk. Sipped and savored. But it’s a lie. I down it as soon as I finish pouring.
“You might want to go easy on them,” Feliks says.
“Why, so I can linger in the joy of my reality?”
“No, because getting drunk isn’t going to make this any better.”
“That is true.” I pour another. “But fuck it feels better than being sober.”
33
BROOKE
It takes me hours to get to sleep, and even then, my dreams are broken and obsessive and full of images of Lev telling me he no longer wants me.
I wake up in a sweat. Summer is coming, and the nights are getting hotter.
I roll over and feel the empty space next to me. I slide my hand across the cool sheets and curl into the pillow. When I slept in his bed, even when he was gone, his comforting scent still lingered in the sheets. But these sheets smell like soap and no one.
The loneliness is unbearable because I know what I am missing. Two months ago, I didn’t know what his warmth next to me at night felt like. I didn’t know how protected and safe and cared for I felt. When I woke up and felt the weight of him lying in the bed next to me.