Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 89878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
“Fine. I need to head back to the office. If you need anything, call me instantly.” Jackson takes one last glimpse my way and vanishes out the front door.
“You’re turning my dad into a softie. You sure you’re okay?”
Far fucking from it. “Yeah.”
“Why don’t you get comfortable in the media room? I’ll grab some snacks.”
I nod, knowing there’s no way I can eat anything right now. Numbly, I walk to the media room, grab a blanket, and cover myself, hoping to conceal how badly my body shudders with nerves. What does this mean now that Noah is home? My fingers ache to text Jackson. A hand lands on my shoulder, and I practically jump out of my skin.
“Whoa, sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you. Do you want a Vitamin Water or Gatorade?”
Shit. “Sorry. I was dozing off.” Or massively freaking out. “I’ll take the Gatorade. Thanks.” I accept the bottle he’s handing me and attempt to take a sip, but the liquid feels like sandpaper.
“You sure you’re okay, George?”
“Yeah. Just haven’t been sleeping.”
“Speaking of sleeping, where were you last night?”
“I…” I don’t know how to answer this question. Fuck. “I… um… I got a hotel.”
“Hotel? Why the fuck would you do that?”
“I was worried about getting you guys sick and thought it was for the best.”
Noah sits, reaching for my hand. “Georgia, fuck, you shouldn’t have left. I don’t care if you get me sick.”
“I know.”
“We’re not dating anymore, but I’m here for you. I would never not take care of you.”
Tears burn my eyes. “I know.” Guilt tastes like acid in my throat. I don’t know how much longer I can do this. “Noah—”
His phone rings on the coffee table, and we both see who’s calling.
Vince.
“Give me a second—”
“No!” I shout, startling him. “It’s just. You’re right. I should’ve come to you. Can we just shut our phones off and enjoy the movie?”
His phone stops, and I feel a sliver of relief. Then it rings again, and panic rushes through me. Before he can answer, I hold my stomach and groan.
“Fuck—what’s wrong?”
“It’s… can you get me some Sprite? My stomach…”
“Yeah, for sure.” He gets up, leaving his phone behind. The moment he’s out of the room, I grab it off the table and end the call. Holding my breath, I punch in his password, praying he hasn’t changed it. It unlocks, and I swipe through his settings, putting the phone on Do Not Disturb. I hear him coming back, so I relock it and set it back on the table as he reenters.
"We’re out of Sprite. You cool with 7UP?"
“Yeah. Thanks.”
“What do you want to watch? I’ll let the patient pick the movie.”
I mindlessly pick a movie, not caring what it is since I won’t watch a second of it. The inside of my cheek is raw from chewing on it, and I’ve managed to pick away most of the skin around my fingernails. The only thing I can do is glance every so often at the clock. When is Jackson going to be home? I can’t do this alone much longer. A bang resounds from the front of the house, followed by the beeping sound of someone opening the front door.
“Who the fuck?”
It could be Jackson. He went to work, barked orders, and now he’s home. Breathe, Georgia. But that feels unlikely. My chest tightens.
Noah starts to get up, but I grab his arm. “Noah, wait.”
“Chill. I’m just gonna see who—”
“Well, look what we have here.” The color drains from my face as Vince’s cold stare sweeps over me, sending a chill down my spine.
“What up, man?”
“That sure is the question.” Vince claps his hands together, and my shoulders tense suddenly. “What. Is. Up? Been calling you.”
“Sorry, dude. George and I were watching a movie.”
“Lovely. What are we watching?” He walks into the room and plops down on the couch next to me.
“Some horror flick George picked.”
“Horror?” Vince raises his brows. “Didn’t peg you as the horror type. Figured more of a romance kinda girl. The forbidden kind.” He slaps his hand on my thigh, squeezing to the brink of pain. My stomach turns, and this time, I truly do groan.
“Is the 7UP not helping?” Noah asks, oblivious to his malicious friend.
I fight to keep my voice steady. “No, it’s fine. I’m just going to go—”
“Yeah, I don’t think so.” My eyes shoot to Vince. He’s not. He wouldn’t just out me right here. He has to know what it would do to Noah. “I’ve been waiting all day to hang with you two. You’re not escaping me now.”
“Yeah, but I don’t feel—”
“Don’t feel what, Georgia?”
“Dude, chill out. She doesn’t feel good.”
“Oh, I’m sure she doesn’t. Guilt just eating you up inside, Georgia?”
“Vince, for real, knock it off.”
“Where’s the ledger?” He stares at me, his fury barely restrained.
“I don’t have it.”