Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 77718 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77718 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
“What’s it gonna be?” He pushes. “I have your dad’s number right here…so we can call him now…” He reaches into his pocket for his phone.
“Fine!” I yell. “Fucking fine! You win. I’ll ride with you to and from work.”
He pushes his cell back into his pocket and smiles smugly at me.
I don’t know whether I should be pissed off or thankful that he now cares about my welfare. And he’s not a bad guy, size-wise, to have as a pseudo bodyguard. He’s built like a tank.
He picks up his mug, drains his coffee, and then places it back on the table. Then, he toes off his sneakers, which are huge, by the way.
Big feet, big—
Don’t even go there, Ari.
Cheeks flush, I mutter out, “Um…are you staying?” I set my cup aside after finishing the last of my coffee.
“For a bit, in case that fucknut decides to come back.”
“And do I have a say in this?” Clearly, I’m still feeling pissy about the corner he backed me into a minute ago.
He sits up. “Of course you do. It’s your place, Ari.”
“Well, I didn’t have a say a minute ago.” I fold my arms over my chest.
“You had a choice. You always have a choice. Would I prefer it if you told your dad about what happened with that asshole? Yes. But you won’t, so you’re stuck with me for the time being until I know Kyle the cunt has gotten the message and is not gonna come back and bother you again. Now, if you want me to go home now and leave you alone, I will. Just promise me that you’ll lock up after I’m gone. And, if he turns back up, you’ll call the police and then me. In that order.”
I watch him reach for his shoes to put them back on, and I have this odd, tight feeling in my chest at the thought of him leaving. The word alone rattles around in my mind.
I’m tired of being lonely.
“Wait…”
He stops and looks over at me. I can’t meet his eyes. I stare down at my hands in my lap.
“I, um…you…can…stay for a while. If you want.” I make it sound like it’s me doing him the favor when actually it’s the other way around.
I’m so pathetic; it’s laughable.
I risk a glance at him through my lashes.
“Okay.” He nods and sets his shoes back down.
I decide not to dig too deep into the fact that I’m not ready for him to leave. I’ve just…I’ve never had someone care about me…well, care about my safety, like this before, and it’s…nice.
He’s nice.
And there are two words I never thought I’d say in relation to Ares Kincaid.
How things have changed in such a short space of time.
“Do you, um…want to watch some TV?” I ask him for the need to break through the weird atmosphere currently residing in here.
“Sure,” he says.
“What are you in the mood for?”
“Football,” he says.
I groan, and just like that, we’re back to normal.
“Oh, yeah, I forgot that you don’t like it.”
I don’t believe for a second that he forgot. The smirk on his face is telling me that.
“Seriously though, how can you not like football? Especially when your dad is a football coach. You must’ve spent your whole life around it.”
Not really. My dad was hardly ever home to share his love of football with me.
Of course, I don’t say that. I don’t want to get into the specifics of that with him. And it’s not that I don’t like football per se. It’s just that I resent the fact that my dad chose it over his family.
“It’s just not my thing.”
“So, what is your thing? Painting?” He nods his head in the direction of my easel that’s sitting in the corner of the room.
“Oh.” I swallow. “No. That’s just a…hobby.”
I don’t know why I lied. I guess…I just don’t want to tell him about another thing I’ve been failing at.
Ares stares at me for a long moment, like he’s trying to see what’s really inside my mind. “Hmm,” he murmurs. “Well, I guess I’ll have to see what I can do to change your mind about liking football.”
“Ha!” I laugh. “Good luck with that.”
“That sounds like a challenge, Jailbird. You should know I love a challenge.”
Jailbird. Ah, so he’s back to calling me that. I guess not everything has changed then.
“So, what do you want to watch?” I ask, changing the question, trying to hide my disappointment.
His eyes assess me. Then, he shrugs those big shoulders of his. “I don’t mind. What are you watching at the moment?”
“Riverdale.”
“What’s it about?”
“A bunch of high school students who—”
“Pass.”
“I didn’t even get a chance to tell you what it’s about!” I laugh.
“You lost me at high school students.”
“Okay. So, no shows about schoolkids,” I say, scrolling through the listings. “Oh, have you seen Dexter?” I ask, coming to a stop on it.