Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 100277 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100277 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Ah.
This had to be one of the overzealous owners who had a crush on my boyfriend. Usually, I didn’t allow myself to think of the people who walked into Rafe’s life and drooled over him, but I hated the idea of someone flirting with him and making him uncomfortable. Especially a patient’s owner.
I leaned into him. “Brought coffee.”
“You’re wonderful.” We turned, giving the stony-faced Ms. Prescott our backs, to find Finn eyeing the coffee on his counter like a dog eyeing the food his humans had told him he couldn’t have but had been stupid enough to leave lying in front of him.
Laughing to myself at the thought, I handed Finn his coffee. “There you go.”
I gave Rafe his Americano, and he promised to get Owen’s latte to him.
Finn groaned after taking a sip and met my gaze. “I love you.”
Rafe sighed unhappily at my side. “You don’t love my girlfriend, Finn, because then I’d have to fire you.”
Finn’s expression froze in horror.
Shoving Rafe, I tutted. He knew his vet nurse was sensitive. “You’re awful. And now I have to go.”
He flashed me a boyish grin before he bent his head to capture my mouth in a much deeper kiss. So deep, my knees actually trembled and I had to press a hand to his chest for support. When he broke the kiss, he murmured against my lips, “Thanks for the coffee.”
I stroked his chest affectionately. “Anytime.”
Though it was a sweet moment, one of many with Rafe, I couldn’t help but feel a little melancholy as I strolled back to work. Because . . . why hadn’t he told me he loved me yet?
Weren’t we there?
He had to know that with my issues, I’d need him to say it first, whether or not that was fair.
There was no way I could hand my heart over to another person again who might crush it without being certain I had their heart in return.
But maybe it was the same for Rafe?
Dammit.
Or maybe this wasn’t even about Rafe. Maybe my conversation with my mom the day before had affected me more than I knew. Maybe, maybe, maybe.
All I knew was that I hadn’t felt like myself lately.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The following Saturday, Rafe was working at the clinic and Pamela had asked me to accompany her to a client’s apartment in Brooklyn. I wasn’t supposed to work Saturdays, but with Rafe working, I decided it was worth it to do some overtime and try to learn as much about the interior design business as possible.
My efforts to reconcile Rafe with Hugo all week had stalled because Rafe had returned to the Mr. Grumpy Broody bastard I’d first met anytime I brought up his brother’s name. Hence why I put my attempts on pause.
Instead, I spent the entire afternoon discussing white with Pamela’s client. White everything. White walls, white floors, white furniture. White, white, white. In my head, I just kept screaming why, why, why? Pamela did her best to convince the client to add pops of color, but they were pretty sold on a life of stress and misery, trying to keep their entire apartment white. It was exhausting and depressing. I needed color in my life. If I had to decorate homes in nothing but white for the rest of my life, I’d be miserable. I knew it was an overexaggeration of the situation, but it was an unhappy afternoon for me.
Until I returned to Rafe’s apartment that night and he surprised me with some news.
“Hugo called.”
I waited with bated breath for him to say more, my relief desperate to be set free. “Okay?”
Rafe frowned. “He wants me at Mom and Dad’s tomorrow. He wants to apologize and to talk.”
I sagged with relief. “Rafe, that’s great.”
“We’ll see.”
“Rafe—”
“No. We’ll see. I’m not just going to forgive him if his apology is disingenuous.”
“Well, you’ll find out tomorrow.”
“You’re coming, right?” He pulled me into his arms, bending to press his forehead to mine. “I want to see him apologize to your face . . . and also I just . . . I need you there.”
Lunch with my friends was set for tomorrow and I now hadn’t seen them in three weeks.
Shit.
However, I couldn’t leave Rafe to face this alone when he’d asked me. When he’d told me he needed me. Squeezing his waist, I whispered, “Of course I’ll be there.”
* * *
• • •
Rafe left half an hour later to pick up pizza from a place we liked down the street, and I took that opportunity to step out onto his balcony to call Roger to explain why I was canceling.
“I feel awful and I really miss you guys, but Rafe needs me to be there tomorrow,” I rushed to say after explaining the situation.
“Star, I get it. Don’t worry. We’ll do lunch next weekend,” Roger offered easily.