Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 82034 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82034 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
His words were cool and collected, but he couldn’t hide the way his hand was shaking as he read the letter.
Since then, he’s become surly and closed off, and I’ve decided to give him his space. I’m still a little pissed at him for letting Avril go so easily, but on the flip side… I still love the dude the way I love Avril. I want them both to get over this heartache. If I knew how to accomplish it, I would.
Pushing up out of my chair, I decide to walk down to his office to check on him. While I’m firmly in Avril’s corner as being the one wronged, I need to cut him some slack. Nothing he did was mean spirited or without thought. He was being truthful with her, even if it crushed her, and I have to give him some leeway.
I don’t bother knocking on his door because the last time I did, he yelled, “Come back later. I’m busy.”
I know damn well he wasn’t any busier than any other day, and I’ve always walked right into his office unless he had someone in.
Opening the door, I slip inside. He’s so engrossed in something on his computer screen that he doesn’t notice me for a moment. I take a step forward, and his head snaps up to look at me.
And Jesus Christ, he looks bad. So fucking bad. I feel like shit as I should have been paying more attention to him the last few days.
His eyes are red rimmed and bloodshot. He hasn’t shaved in I’m guessing… oh, five days. He’s wearing a wrinkled dress shirt with his tie pulled loose, and the expression on his face is as flat as a board. He doesn’t say a word to me but watches me advance on his desk.
“What are you doing?” I ask casually as I sit down.
He closes his laptop, which is odd, and says, “Reviewing some reports.”
“How do they look?”
“Fine,” he says distractedly. “You did a good job.”
I have no clue what he’s talking about because I haven’t given him any reports to read lately. He picks up a pencil from his desk and starts rolling it through his fingers, which gives him a place to stare at rather than look at me.
“Enough, Dane,” I growl.
His head jerks up, and the pencil clatters to the desk. “Excuse me?”
“Enough,” I reiterate firmly. “Get over it. Move on. You lost her, man. I know it sucks because you made a stupid fucking choice when you chose your cold black heart over a woman who loves you, but whatever, dude. You have a business to run so snap the fuck out of it and move on.”
“You’re an asshole,” he mutters as he picks the pencil back up and starts rolling it again. The fact he’s trying to ignore me pisses me off.
“No, you’re an asshole. You chased Avril away. Now I don’t have my best friend because you’re a selfish prick who is also a coward.”
Dane ignores me and turns in his chair to look out the window. He doesn’t say a word in defense, and his silence indicates he’s not going to engage with me.
“You need to go to The Wicked Horse and get laid, man,” I tell him.
He flinches and even though he’s not looking at me directly, I can see his grimace from his profile. Interesting that The Wicked Horse is distasteful to him.
“I was wrong,” he says so quietly I almost don’t hear him. But his voice strengthens as he turns to look at me. “I was wrong about all of it.”
“What do you mean?” I ask as I scoot forward in my chair a bit to give him my undivided attention.
Dane sighs and leans back. He looks like he’s aged about ten years. “My biggest fear was that Avril would abandon me. That I couldn’t trust her because my dad ripped that away from me. So, I cut bait and ran. I gave her up before she could break my heart. But I was so fucking wrong. Avril didn’t abandon me, nor would she have. I abandoned her. I turned out just like my fucking dad. Everything I hated about him, I turned around and did to her. I became the fucker I despise.”
I want to make a ding, ding, ding sound and tell him he’s won a prize for finally uttering the truth about all of this. But that would be crass and might cause him to clam back up again.
Standing up, I lean over his desk and tap my finger on the top. “Then do something about it.”
Dane lifts his face to look up at me. He studies me silently, and I’m not encouraged by how dead his expression is. Finally, he says distractedly, “Yeah… maybe.”
“Want to talk about it? I’ll help you figure it out. I’m sure Avril—”