Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79747 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79747 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
And I don’t know how to change that kind of thinking in my father.
But it’s now beyond crippling, and everything I’d run away from has followed me here.
CHAPTER 42
Dawson
My insides boil with anger the next day as I watch her walk in with another man. I’ve never been jealous, but I am right now. Is this the reason she blew me off last night? Did she have a date with somebody else?
I watch them stroll down the sidewalk for a good five minutes, stopping to look at various shops before I decide to get out of the car.
Coming up behind them, I hear her laugh at something he says, and I hate that someone else made her laugh.
Am I fucking falling for her?
I shouldn’t be.
She’ll want more life experience than just settling for me. I’ve been her first and only fuck, and I know how curious she is with everything. She asks me questions that most people in their early twenties would usually ask their best friends. Hell, even as teenagers.
A part of me loves that she trusts my opinion, but the other part wonders why no one has shared things with her before. Has she lived such a sheltered life? I completely understand that she comes from a background where what your father says is law.
But then I look at Rya and wonder why Honey isn’t the same.
Not that I want her to be anything like Rya. At least when it comes to how forward Rya is compared to how reserved Honey is. Well, how reserved she is with everyone but me.
She laughs again, and I tap her on the shoulder this time. She turns, and the man’s arm is still linked with hers. And when he turns with her, I see it’s not just any man.
It’s her father.
Fuck.
My sour face instantly changes as I see her surprised expression turn worrisome.
“Dawson,” she chokes out, then composes herself and continues, “You remember my father.” She waves to him, and I offer him my hand.
“Yes. A pleasure to see you again, sir.” He glances at my outstretched hand and doesn’t bother to take it before he looks back at his daughter.
“We should go, your mother will be worried.”
Yep, still hates my guts.
Honey pulls away from his hold. “You go. I want to chat with Dawson for a moment. I won’t be long.” She leans in and kisses him on the cheek. The whole time, he gives me a death glare. The feeling equally returned as I offer him a half-cocked smile.
He turns reluctantly and walks away.
She finds us a little alley between two stores where he can’t see us anymore. When I know we’re alone, I pull her to me, slamming my lips to hers, our bodies so dangerously close that there’s no air between us. She kisses me back at first, our tongues sliding together. Her arms wrap around my shoulders as mine circle her waist. I glue her to me, but then she seems to remember exactly where we are and breaks the kiss.
“My father could see us.” She pulls back.
“Is that an issue?” I ask.
She pushes my possessive hands away from her waist. “Yes.”
“Why?”
She cocks an eyebrow, and I already know the answer. I just want to hear her say it out loud. “Father doesn’t like you, but don’t take it personally. I don’t think he will like anyone with me. Unless he chose the man himself.” I stand there quietly. “Hold on. How long have you been here?”
“Not long. I saw you and wanted to bring you back to my place.” I reach for her again, and she doesn’t pull away this time. “Tell me you’ll come.”
I sound like a fucking lost puppy. There are so many papers and contracts I could be signing at the moment as I wait for Henry to give me useful information.
But this woman is my distraction.
My procrastination.
A break-time snack.
Call it whatever the fuck you want, but I need her.
She shakes her head. “What are we?” she asks.
“Two adults having great sex,” I reply.
She huffs out a breath. “A fuck buddy doesn’t stalk me down the street as I take a stroll with my father.”
“In all fairness, I didn’t know it was your father at first.”
She laughs. “I mean, the sex is great. And I know you do contracts with most people. So what are we? Because we don’t have a contract.”
“Do you want a contract?”
“No! I would actually be offended if you gave me one,” she says, and I feel her tense beneath my fingers.
“I’m not asking you to sign one.”
“Good. I wouldn’t sign one anyway,” she states, staring right into my eyes.
I don’t know what else she wants from me. I’ve never had a non-contractual relationship. And sure, I know what normal people do in terms of dating, but she and I are far from normal—our circumstances are completely different.