Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77236 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77236 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
“I don’t know if I should scold or thank you for this,” I admitted, petting her head, then peeling myself off the floor, and taking a cool shower before climbing into my PJs.
I couldn’t bring myself to go out into the main area of the house and face him. Not yet.
So I focused on other things.
I checked my site, marking myself as “On Vacation” since there was no way for me to create content right then.
Sure, I had some stuff stored for emergencies. But I just… I didn’t feel like it.
And I had enough money to not worry about it for a few days. So that was what I was going to do. Not worry about it.
Though I did look up where I could get a replacement camera and lenses, making mental notes of the stores and prices before, finally, deciding I couldn’t put it off any longer.
I had to take Frida on her last trip outside for the night.
But when I moved down the hallway, I saw Alaric coming in with Frida, reaching down to free her from her slip lead, then petting her head.
“Good girl,” he said. “Now go keep your mom company, okay?” he asked as I silently slinked back into the primary bedroom, trying to pretend my heart wasn’t melting a bit at the sweet way he handled my dog.
She came in a few moments later, eyeing up the bed I was settled on, then climbing up herself.
I turned on the TV to keep Frida calm, but was sure I would be up for hours watching mindless TV and commercials for prescription drugs that would make me suddenly worried I was dealing with some horrible, life-threatening disease because the symptoms were so vast.
I found I passed out almost instantly, though.
I woke up sometime later to Frida’s little whimpers.
“It’s late,” I grumbled, squinting at her in the TV light, finding her sitting beside the bed. “Go lay down, girl,” I tried.
But she only let out another whimper.
Worrying her tummy might feel weird because of all the upset of the day, I climbed out of bed, grabbed my glasses, then tried to lead her toward the kitchen to go out the back, but finding she stopped in the hallway opening, staring into the living room.
Where Alaric was sitting off the side of the couch, his head cradled in his hands.
“Are you okay?” I asked, voice small, but it made him jerk, looking up at me with exhausted-looking eyes.
“I’m fine, baby. Go back to sleep.”
“Can’t you sleep?” I asked, taking a step forward.
To that, he shot me a bemused smile.
“Remind me to actually lie on a couch before I buy one next time,” he said, grimacing.
“I can—“ I started. I could. I slept on my own couch all the time. I wasn’t picky about my sleeping conditions.
“Absolutely not.”
The way he said it made me think there would be no reasoning with him about it.
That only left me with one option.
“Then you can sleep in the bed with me,” I said, shocked the words came out as strongly as they did.
I never shared a bed with a man.
With the couple of clumsy, uncomfortable experiences I’d had with men, they very clearly hadn’t wanted me to stay the night. So I never did.
Alaric’s brows rose as he looked at me.
“No, baby,” he said, shaking his head.
“You’re being stubborn for no reason,” I said, marching forward to grab his pillow and blanket. “Come on,” I demanded, turning and walking back to the bedroom.
I felt my lips curve up when I heard him behind me as I moved around the bed to make up his side.
“How’d you know I was up?” he asked.
“Frida was worried about you,” I told him. And, sure enough, now that he was in the room, she’d walked over to the dog bed and curled up peacefully. “I hope you like Adam-12 reruns,” I said, gesturing toward the TV as I went around to my side of the bed again.
“Ate up these shows as a kid,” he admitted, shaking his head at himself as he climbed on the bed. “Kind of ironic, given how I ended up.”
“I can never get over how seriously they took marijuana in these shows. Treating it like heroin,” I added, pulling my blanket up over my body, finding myself pleased that he kept his air conditioning really cold, because I couldn’t sleep without a blanket, but I hated being hot when I slept.
“Don’t forget the LSD,” he agreed. “God, I feel like I remember an episode where some kid was… eating tree bark or some shit like that,” he said. “Looking back, probably not the content I should have been watching before bed as a little kid.”
“I had nightmares about one episode of Dragnet,” I admitted. “There was this murder of this young mom. And in the garden there was—“