Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79564 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79564 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
“Farren,” Rafferty says, so very cautiously as he takes a step toward me. “What’s going on?”
“I’m sorry… I need some air,” I mumble and head for the exit. The crowd is thick and I have to elbow and nudge people out of the way, but soon enough I’m in the cold January night where I take deep gulping breaths.
“Farren.” I turn to see North there, the worry on his face etched so deep, I’m not sure it will ever come out. “You have got to tell me what’s going on.” He throws his thumb over his shoulder toward the door. “You have to know that was all in good fun, right?”
I step back, his words only making the rage burn hotter. “Good fun? So, what—this is all just a game to you?”
North jerks slightly from not just the accusation I threw at him, but the bitterness in my voice. His brows knit together, confusion flickering across his face. “Farren, no. That’s not what I meant.”
But I can’t hear him over the rushing in my ears, the familiar weight of humiliation pressing down on me. My mind spirals back to that awful night in high school—the whispered laughs, the cruel words, the way I felt when I realized I was a pawn in someone else’s game.
“You should’ve told me,” I snap, my voice low but trembling with anger. “If this was just some joke to you, you should’ve told me.”
“Hold on,” North says, his voice sharpening. “That’s not what this is.”
“Oh, really?” I say. “Because it sure feels like it.”
“Farren, you’re blowing this out of proportion,” he says, his response tinged with frustration. “It was a stupid bet between the guys. It had nothing to do with how I feel about you.”
“How do I know that?” I shoot back, my voice rising. “How do I know this isn’t just some conquest for you? Another notch on your belt?”
North’s face hardens, his jaw clenching. “You really think that little of me?”
I falter, his words cutting deeper than expected. “I don’t know what to think.”
“Then maybe you should figure it out,” he says, his voice cold now. “Because I can’t keep proving myself to you if you’re always going to assume the worst.”
Tears sting my eyes, but I blink them back, refusing to break down here. “This was a mistake,” I say, my voice shaking. “I knew it from the start. I tried to tell you.”
“You haven’t told me shit,” he snaps, righteous anger causing his face to flush. “You just tell me what you can and can’t give, and then something mysteriously sets you off and you’re ready to throw it all away? Real fucking mature.”
“Hey,” Rafferty calls from behind, stepping out the door and walking toward us. “Everything okay?”
North throws his hands out but I’m shaking my head. “No. It’s not okay. I’m going home.”
“I’ll give you a ride,” North says.
“No,” I exclaim, holding out a hand to him. “I mean… I’m going home to Calgary. It was a mistake coming here.”
Rafferty and North exchange an uneasy look. I cross my arms over my stomach, bracing for North to make a better argument that I’m being ridiculous. To force me to some sort of truth that makes sense.
Instead, he turns toward Rafferty and claps him lightly on the shoulder. “I assume you’ll get her back to your place safely.”
He doesn’t even look at me as he heads back inside Mario’s.
Rafferty calls out after him. “That’s it?” North doesn’t respond and my brother whirls on me, asking the same question. “That’s it?”
“I guess,” I say lamely, feeling empty inside. The hurt is gone and so is the anger, and I just feel flat.
“So you’re running again,” he says with a mirthless laugh. “What a disappointment.”
I suck in a breath. “That’s harsh.”
“That’s the truth. Someone needs to give it to you.”
“You’re taking his side?” I ask, hating how small my voice feels.
How alone I feel.
Rafferty sighs. “I’m always on your side, but in this case it means me telling you you’re wrong.” He fishes in his pocket for his keys. “Come on… let’s go home.”
CHAPTER 26
Farren
I’m dead asleep when the blinds in Rafferty’s guest bedroom shoot up with a loud clatter, letting in a flood of blinding sunlight.
“Get up,” Rafferty orders, his voice cutting through the haze of my dreamless sleep like a chainsaw.
A groan escapes me as I bury my head under the pillow. “Go away, Raff,” I mutter, my words muffled by the fabric.
“Not happening,” he retorts with no trace of sympathy. My pillow is yanked away, leaving me exposed to the merciless brightness.
“Leave. Me. Alone,” I yell, swiping at the air where I think he is, but Rafferty’s already out of reach.
“God, you’re a pain in the ass,” he says, sounding suspiciously cheerful. I hear his footsteps recede and pull the covers up and over my head. I’m going to sleep the rest of my life away so I don’t have to deal with the horrible feelings I’ve got going on.