Irresistible Bachelors: Books 1-5 by Landish, Lauren (bts books to read TXT) 📕

please don't try to contact me. There’s no point and it’s not worth the heartache. I don't want to ever see you again.

Bri

I stand there reading the words over and over, my head feeling like it’s going to explode. It hurts reading this. And what hurts most of all is that it’s true. I can’t stay, and starting a long-distance relationship with a football star would be hell on her.

The only way I can have something meaningful with Bri is if I stay or she comes with me. And she’s made it clear that she loves this place. It would be selfish of me to expect her to pack her bags and enter my crazy world of flashing cameras and salacious headlines after knowing me for just a week.

But now that she hates me, I guess the decision has been made for me.

I’m leaving.Brianna

“I’m sorry, Miss Sayles,” says the interviewer over the phone. I didn’t want to take the call, but I had to. “While your qualifications are excellent, we’ve decided on another candidate at this time. We’ll keep your application on file if there is another opening.”

“Okay, thank you for your time,” I whisper, trying to be polite as I hang up the phone.

I was hoping to get that job at Petersen and Associates so I could just quit and tell Vandenburgh to go fuck himself. I thought I had it in the bag. I knew the manager I’d be working for. I took a class with him. But now, that’s no good.

Jesus. I don’t know if I can deal with this anymore.

What does it matter anyway? I only have so much time before school is over and I’m gone.

At least Gavin is gone tomorrow so I don’t have to worry about running into his ass again. Still, just thinking his name makes me clutch my hand to my chest. It hurts. I hate to admit it, but I don’t want him to go. Deep down in my gut, I want him to stay.

But there is no other way. The man couldn’t give up his entire career for me. That was a fool’s dream anyway. I don’t know why I ever deluded myself into thinking that. This is real life, not some Disney movie where the knight and the princess end up in a Happily Ever After with a talking cat.

The dark cloud on my chest has me wanting to talk to someone. Anyone. I know Mindy is out of the question right now. She’s still at work. So I dial the only person I think I might be able to trust with my problems.

“Hello?” asks the familiar, high-pitched voice on the other end of the line. It’s been months, but the voice hasn’t changed at all. It still sounds like a woman who’s on the edge of freaking out.

“Mom,” I breathe. My mother, Cindy Sayles, is a woman who has aged well, and I’m surprised she hasn’t remarried. She’s a serial dater since the divorce. I guess most men aren’t willing to put up with her nagging personality once they get past the still tight 48-year-old body.

“Bri! Where have you been, girl? It’s been months since you last called me!”

“I know,” I say. “I’ve been very busy.”

“Doing what? Tipping cows? We all know that little town is boring as all get out.”

I stiffen. This is why I don't like talking to my mother. She has about as much empathy as a brick, and it’s obvious she thinks she’s better now than the place she grew up in, and that bothers me.

“Tipping cows is a lot more fun than being stuck in traffic,” I say, trying to keep a lid on my temper.

“Oh, Bri, you always have to be so passive-aggressive. I was just worried about you,” Mom says. “I miss you, sweetheart.”

“I know,” I say softly, my anger evaporating. “How are things out there in the city?”

“I’m loving it. I still wish you’d come and be here with me. Was it really worth staying there?”

Before, I would have answered yes in a heartbeat. But now . . . now, I don’t know what to think about my decision to stay here with the heartache that I feel. “I think so.”

“You don’t sound like you believe what you’re saying,” Mom says. There's a long pause where I think she wants me to reply before she continues. “Everything all right over there? Do you need me to have your father send you money?”

I suck in a breath. My mom is forever thinking problems can be solved by money. Preferably, someone else’s money. Sure, money is nice, but I’m too prideful to take handouts. I would’ve accepted Gavin’s money if I wasn’t, even if it hurts that I gave it back. There was so much I could’ve done with that money.

“No, I’m fine,” I finally reply. “Plus, I wouldn't want you to worry Dad on my behalf.”

Mom sighs in relief. “Heaven knows I didn't want to, trust me. If he can ever stop long enough to dig his little winky out of his little homewrecking whore—”

“Mom, please don't!” I interrupt, knowing she’s about to go into a rant about my dad and his mistress. I can’t right now.

“You know, sometimes, I feel like you take your daddy’s side over me. Even after all he did to us.”

Ugh. I hate how she always twists things. “Mom, you know how I feel about what happened. And you know I don't like how things turned out between you guys. I just . . .”

“You just what?”

“I just can’t deal with any of this right now.”

“And you’re sure you're okay?” Mom asks.

Of course I’m not good, I think to myself. That's why I called. But I’m not gonna get any help from this quarter. “As good as I’ll ever be.”

“Huh? What’s that supposed to mean?” Mom asks, confused.

I don’t have the energy to explain now. At least I got to hear a familiar voice. “I’m gonna go, Mom. I’ll make sure to keep in touch.