Page 107 of How to Break My Heart
Aston grazes his hand against my thigh and brushes it against my clit, causing me to gasp. With a devilish smirk playing on his lips, I expect him to slide himself in me until his phone vibrates on the coffee table beside us.
It’s like the tenth call he’s had since he got here two hours ago, and like all those other calls, he chooses to ignore it.
“Fuck my life,” he complains, resting his forehead against mine. “I can’t even fuck my girl in peace.”
A warmth radiates throughout my body from him calling me his girl. I’m not that type—you know, the one who gets all fuzzy over cutesy nicknames and stuff—so why has the simplest of endearments left a drumming sensation in my chest?
Almost like I belong to him.
“You know, all those years ago when you kissed me, I hated you for being a dick afterward,” I admit, running my fingers down his cheek. “And do you want to know what’s really funny?”
“What?” he murmurs, watching me intently.
“I spent years trying to buy that piece of land. Something always drew me to it, even before we kissed. Being there always brought me so much joy. Then you went ahead and ruined it.” I laugh softly.
“I’m sorry,” he says faintly.
“It’s all in the past,” I remind him. “It’ll be mine one day, when business picks up and whoever owns it agrees to sell it to me.”
Aston cocks his head with a grin. “You love it that much?”
“Maddy and Billie think I’m crazy, but I don’t need them if Houdini will hang out with me. I’d love to restore the home, rebuild the porch, sit outside with a good book, and take it all in.”
“A good book… like smut?” he teases. “I could get on board with this project, but your frog friend sounds a bit possessive.”
I smack his arm. “How do you know about smut?”
Aston shrugs with a smirk, only for his phone to ring again.
“I should probably go.” He sighs dejectedly, then continues, “We have to be at dinner in two hours.”
As he stands up, I grab his arm to pull him back to me. “But why do you have to go now?”
His mouth curves in amusement. “Because I can’t turn up in sweats with your pussy smell all over me.”
My nose scrunches at his crass remark. “That sounds gross.”
“Trust me, sweetheart, it’s the exact opposite of gross. The last thing I want is some other man smelling you on me.”
“Well, if you put it like that,” I deadpan.
“I am putting it like that.” His eyes search mine with desperation. “No one, and I mean no one, gets to touch you but me.”
This is the biggest red flag to exist.
Aston Beaumont thinks he owns me.
And while a part of me is terrified of what that might entail for us, I bury the feeling and ignore it for now. After all, he did call me his girl.
The sentiment brings a grin to my face.
After Aston leaves my apartment, I also have to prepare for tonight. I choose to wear a long, high-neck dress that reaches the floor. There is a split down the side, which comes mid-thigh. I style my hair in a bun and away from my face.
Once I am dressed and have done my makeup, I drive to Pecan Peaks, a town over, for the dinner.
The only people attending tonight are Maddy and Myles’s family and the wedding party. Since there are only twelve of us, I’ve reserved one round table in a quieter part of the restaurant. The dinner is nothing fancy, with large platters of Italian food served instead of multiple courses, keeping the night intimate for the almost-married couple.
Aston arrives with Maddy, but since they are preoccupied talking to Roland Whitney, I don’t get a chance to say hello to either of them. When Maddy finally steps away from the conversation, she barely acknowledges me. Her body language is off. She appears weighed down, as if carrying some burden.
