Series: The Rossi Crime Family Series by J.L. Beck
Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 63048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
So far, he’s done neither, and with each passing day, I’m getting more and more impatient. I know this entire thing is my fault, but I still feel like he should have come to his senses by now.
Tasha thinks I’m crazy for trying to get in touch with him at all, but I ignore her warnings. I know him. I know he didn't mean the things he said to her that day.
I walk across campus, my feet dragging the entire way. Today is Thursday: paid study session day. Even though I’m glad I didn’t officially quit my job, like Hero had suggested, I haven't been looking forward to today either.
My heart beats frantically against my ribcage, as if it’s trying to break free and fly away. Each step I take up the stairs and into the library makes it beat faster, harder.
Then, I feel it. A slight change in the air. Just like in the past few days, I have this feeling someone is watching me. I narrow my eyes and turn around, scanning my surroundings.
Has he been watching me?
He admitted to watching me before, so it must have been him. Who else would be sneaking around after me? Or maybe I’m just being paranoid hoping he’s watching me, hoping he’s sorry. Righting myself, I straighten my back and hold my head high.
Today, he’ll finally have to come face to face with me, and I’ll demand answers—answers I deserve.
When I get to the study room, I pause in front of the door with my hand on the knob. Is this it? Will he already be inside waiting for me? I take a calming breath to brace myself for the onslaught of emotions surely awaiting me.
The knob turns, and I push open the door, revealing an empty room. Disappointment washes over me like a tidal wave, pulling me down deep into the water.
Ugh, he isn’t here yet.
I walk inside the room and slump down into one of the chairs—the same chair I sat in when I kissed him for the first time. The memory of that day brings tears to my eyes. I was shocked when he made that request, but I had never been so excited, or felt so alive. Kissing him was one of the most exhilarating experiences of my life, and it didn’t help that he was my first kiss either. I will never forget the way my body reacted to him, or the way it continued to react to him.
I bring my fingertips to my lips, as if I could still feel the kiss there. But the warmth is gone, and so is the taste. I need to see him. I need to have him back.
Checking my phone, I realize it’s already ten after six. If he were going to show up, he’d be here by now. Slinging my backpack over my shoulder, I stomp out of the study room far more determined than I’ve ever expected myself to be.
I’m done waiting for him to come around. I don’t care what he thinks is right for me. I want answers, and I want them now.
In the time it takes me to walk to his place, I let every possible scenario run through my head. Maybe he’ll open the door...just to slam it in my face again. Or maybe he isn’t there at all, or maybe he’ll just pretend not to be there.
The worst case scenario would be another girl opening the door. I don’t know if I would survive that one, but I guess I’m about to find out.
By the time I get to his apartment, my still sore ankle is throbbing. I concentrate on the pain to keep me grounded.
Lifting my good hand, I beat against the heavy wooden door. My heart races at hummingbird speed as I listen intently for any noise. It’s now or never...right?
When I finally hear footsteps approaching, I think I might just pass out from anticipation alone.
The door swings open, revealing a freshly showered Hero, wearing nothing but a pair of low hanging shorts.
Looking him up and down, I feel all the saliva suddenly disappear from my mouth. He looks like my beautiful dark knight. I want to press up onto my tip toes and kiss him. Spill all the words from my lips I’ve been begging to tell him for the last week, but it’s like some kind of silly magic trick is taking place, leaving any words I want to say behind and my tongue drier than the Sahara Desert.
“What are you doing here?” he growls.
The harshness of his voice is like a slap to the face, dragging me back to reality. His eyes are a dark green, and they pierce mine with a cold stare that settles deep into my bones.
“I-I want some answers,” I demand…or try to. The man is so intimidating, he makes it hard to say anything when he’s looking at me the way he is right now. “I deserve some and you—you know you owe them to me.”