Page 23 of Take Her

Was she lonely?

Sad?

Secretly putting all of this on Instagram for the likes? I snorted, rocking back, watching her sway and twirl, my hard on slowly becoming more insistent.

Did she know nothing she did for the next few months mattered? That to hear her dad talk, she’d be married by Christmas?

All I knew for sure was that whatever she’d put into my system—this entire week of doubt, decision, and anxiety—it was time to get out. To purge myself of thinking about her. Since I was “safe” now, as safe as men like me ever got to be, it was time to move on.

After—and I knew how inane it was when I thought it—just one last time.

My entire life I’d been around junkies of assorted bents. People who were sure the next pony was their lucky one, or actual addicts looking for one more hit: of hard drugs, soft women, faster cars, or another dollar sign in their bank.

So I knew as I watched her and my left hand sank inside the waistband of my sweatpants, and my right hand lifted up my shirt, that I wasn’t fooling anyone.

Least of all myself.

10

LIA

I’m waking up and choosing violence—which Pride and Prejudice is the better one? And why can’t we go back in time and have one with Kiera Knightly AND Colin Firth in it? Or—and hear me out—Keanu?

OR…Colin Firth and Keanu?

I don’t really care which one would play Elizabeth, as long as they both end up in lakes with white shirts eventually.

From @rosepetalromances

I don’t understand why we have to pitch icons against one another! What if instead we just had an all the Darcies at once Why Choose?

From @zibzubbathtub

Or…an all the Darcies Omegaverse?

From @boooksnbeeers

Dibs on being the omega!

From @catcusprincess12216

My dad yelled at me, but he didn’t turn off my key card—and I didn’t need a driver when I had Uber on my phone. Ruiz wasn’t there on Sunday-night-going-into-Monday morning but once I explained to the regular cleaner who’d come back that I was helping whether they wanted me to or not, they assumed I was a crazy lady and let me.

I was sure my dad had chewed Rhaim out, if how angry he’d been at me had been any indication. But I didn’t want to wait around in my apartment for him to reach out to me—if he even would have—and showing up in his office in a power suit, like this whole past week hadn’t happened would’ve been a lie.

So I’d turned up again, here, to put my shift in, safe beneath the brightness of the office lights, exhausting myself past anxiety with hard labor.

I was working my way down the twentieth-floor hallway when I heard footsteps coming up from behind. Assuming it was the other guy coming to check up on me, I stopped and turned—and saw him.

Rhaim’s eyes ran over me more than once, like he was afraid I might have been an apparition. Then he demanded, “What are you doing here?”

I ducked my head a little, taking a step back towards the protection of the wheeled bin I’d been hauling along behind me.

“What I was told, sir.” Then I remembered what time it was. I’d finished my dinner “break”; it was just past 5 a.m. “Why are you here?” I asked.

He was in some sort of rugged outdoorsy get up—a flannel coat, slightly dusty jeans, and barn boots—like he belonged on the cover of Cattle Rustlers GQ. His dark features were pulled into a serious frown, and he squinted before he spoke next.

“To pack my things. I’ve got my truck outside. I told your father I’d rather leave than help you.”

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