Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 35017 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 175(@200wpm)___ 140(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35017 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 175(@200wpm)___ 140(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
Chapter Nine
FALLON
I lie on my stomach on a mat in the gym. I’ve got my head propped up with my hands, lazily kicking my feet back and forth as I watch Rich work out. His body is like a machine. With each stride he takes, the way his muscles flex has my eyes glued to him.
There is a light sheen of sweat on his skin that for some reason I can’t explain makes him look extra hot. I’d be lying if I said that I’m not completely turned on by this. How does a man his size run so fast for so long? I lasted about two minutes on the treadmill running before I had to take it down to a quick walk and then quit altogether.
I tell myself to stop staring at him, but I can’t help it. All I’ve been doing for the week I’ve been here is watching him. I should’ve grown bored of that, but I haven’t. Every second I’m with Rich is intriguing. I have never in my whole life met a man that is so kind. He has literally given me the shirt off his back.
It really sucks I have nothing to give him in return. I hate the reminder of how I have nothing. That’s not true; I have freedom. At least more than I ever had before.
Rich hops off the treadmill, going over to grab his water and take a drink. “Are you good, dollface?” I nod my head. Why does he have to be so damn handsome? “We can go—”
“No, finish,” I tell him. He’s been cutting his workouts short for me. I learned that a few days ago. I think he’s worried to leave me alone because I might freak out. I kept telling him to go, but he wouldn’t. This was what we’d settled on. I would come with him.
“You sure?”
“Yes.” I nod my head. It’s no misfortune to watch him work out.
Rich walks over to one of the punching bags hanging from the ceiling and starts to lay into it. His phone, which he left with me to play games on if I wanted, lights up with a text.
Casey: You better show up tonight! I got money on you.
Show up where? I wonder.
"Do you have plans tonight?" I ask Rich, his punches pausing. Could he teach me to do that? It wouldn't be terrible to learn how to protect myself.
"You're my only plan, dollface." He winks at me, making a flutter come to light in my chest. I don't know how or where the sensation comes from, but he's the only one to have ever given it to me.
“Who is Casey?” I ask, sitting up. I can’t help but feel a little bit of jealousy bubble up inside of me.
“The text?”
I nod.
Why didn’t he answer the question? How had I never thought about Rich possibly having a girl of his own? My father had multiple girlfriends. They would shuffle in and out of the house. None of the phases lasted more than a few months. It was normal. Men being with lots of women.
It isn’t normal here. I haven’t been staying here long, but I don’t see King or West having other women, nor do I see Teddy or Willa being okay with it. They both are so much stronger than I am. There is never fear in their eyes. They don’t flinch away from anything or jump at loud sounds. Seeing the way they are makes me wish for a life like that. It gives me hope that I can have that one day.
Rich might be different. Emotion grips my throat. I want him to be different.
“He,” Rich says, coming over toward me. He pulls his shirt off over his head to wipe his face to reveal all those perfectly sculpted abs. I counted them once. There are eight. “He’s an annoying asshole,” he says, breaking me from ogling him. Then he drops down to his haunches to snag the phone.
“Do you have a girl?” I ask, glancing down, unable to meet his eyes. It feels like an eternity before he speaks, but I know it’s only been a few seconds.
“Yeah, I got a girl.” I suck in a breath. His finger goes under my chin to tilt my head up. “She’s in my bed every night, clinging to me like a koala bear.” Rich says this with a smile on his lips. I immediately relax when I realize he means me.
“Am I your girl?”
“To me you are.”
“Oh.” What does that mean, then? To him I am? Who else would there be? Oftentimes I’m not sure what some of the things people say here mean, but I don’t ask. It’s a mix of not being bold enough and not wanting everyone to think I’m stupid. There may also be a little bit of fear that I won’t necessarily like the answer I get.