Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 60948 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60948 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 305(@200wpm)___ 244(@250wpm)___ 203(@300wpm)
I don’t want to ask the doormen to come cover me any more than I have to, and I’d feel guilty as fuck if I came home at almost 3:00 a.m. after taking Mia home. Then they’d know I was out doing something personal.
I miss her, though. Even though I didn’t spend a lot of time with her, I felt myself falling for her with every second. Making her smile lit me up in every way. I knew she was compassionate and gorgeous before, but now I know she’s so much more. She’s strong and savvy. Hard-working.
It stung when she told me not to pick her up that night. I was only trying to be a friend to her. I’m pretty sure I was her only one, too, and she still didn’t want me around.
She’s married. To my teammate. And those are both lines I can’t cross. Of all the women in the world I could burn night and day for, why Mia Marceau?
“Anton!” Uncle Dix yells. “I gotta take a shit!”
I shake my head, forced back into my new reality. I can’t fucking wait for the doorman to get here at 5:30.
On my way home from practice later in the morning, I can’t help changing my route home. I park across the street from Mia’s building, seeing it in the daylight for the first time.
I don’t even know which one she lives in, so it’s not like I can knock on the building door. And if she walks out, she’ll think I’m stalking her or something.
My urge to sit on the front steps and wait for her is strong. But I have to get back to Uncle Dix, so instead, I take out my phone and text her.
Me: I’m always here if you need me.
As I pull away from the curb, I can’t believe how much I want her to text me back.
I’ve got it bad for Mia. And though I can’t act on my feelings for her, they’re always present, coursing through my veins every minute of the day.
If only I’d met her before Adam did.
Chapter Eleven
Mia
There are big, fat snowflakes in the air on my walk to work on the first day of December. Even though it’s cold, there’s something very festive and pleasant about walking in the city with my fellow Chicagoans today.
Christmas is this month, and even though I have almost nothing, I’m looking forward to it more than I have since I was a kid. Helping Anita out is taking all my extra money, but I’m so damn happy. The tension has lifted in the apartment and now the two of us talk often. She and Dre are the closest people I’ve had to family besides my grandparents.
My nose is pretty much numb by the time I’m two miles into the walk. I ran out of credit on the Uber gift card, so I’m back to hoofing it every day. I miss the extra time I had in my days when I had a ride to and from work. It’s almost two hours both ways.
Walking’s not so bad, though. What I miss most is getting a ride home from Anton. Knowing he cared enough to stay up late and see me home safe was a nice feeling. One I’ve never gotten from a man before.
Anton’s very handsome; it’s impossible not to notice. But I never felt an attraction before because of Adam. Now, though, I find myself thinking about him often. He has a quiet way about him that I like. The stubble and longish dark blond hair seem out of character for him at first, but now that I know him a little better, I get it. He’s just not all that into his looks, which makes him that much more attractive. And those blue eyes…
I take a deep breath as I wait for the walk signal at an intersection, shaking off my thoughts of him. No point in daydreaming about someone, and something, I can’t have.
Adam’s visit to Lucky Seven a couple weeks ago shook me up. I know he didn’t just come to talk to me—he has my number. He was letting me know that he knows where I work, even though I never told him. That he can keep tabs on me anytime he wants to.
My grandfather told me hate is a waste of time. It eats away at the goodness inside us, he said. But I don’t know how else to describe the way I feel about Adam. He has me in a chokehold I don’t know how to find my way out of.
When I get to work, I take a small bag of cookies out of my backpack and set them on Janice’s desk. She’s not in her office, but she’s in the bar somewhere.
Dre and I baked cookies while Anita was studying and Dre asked if I’d bring some to Janice.