Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 81279 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81279 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
But as easy as I find talking to him, when we step into the elevator and get stuck in its small, closed interior, words die at the back of my throat as a sense of expectation falls over us, nudging at me.
What are the rules of this date? Should I invite him to mine? I desperately want his hands on me, yet the very idea of another person in my home, especially someone I don’t know well, makes my throat constrict.
I wish I was normal. I wish I wasn’t scared of things people do all the time.
But I think back to the freaky situation from last week and know I won’t be able to gather enough courage to challenge myself tonight. A dark shadow settles on my mind as I think about the masked intruder who knew my name. He almost feels like a figment of my imagination at this point, but the police confirmed my window lock was broken, so I didn’t dream him up after all.
Saint clicks on the timed light button as we stop on our floor and goes out first, offering me a small smile. “I wish I came here last month. I’m starting to feel I might not have as much time for writing as I anticipated.”
I realize I’ve been ignoring this absolute stud at my side, too stuck in my own head. “Why? You’re not leaving soon, are you? You just moved in.” I hope that didn’t sound too desperate as I follow him into the dim corridor.
He’s tall, broad shouldered, with an elegant, sturdy figure that makes my mind wander, but in truth I wouldn’t even know how to go about unpacking such a fine man. Or any man for that matter.
Saint shrugs. “I can stay if there’s a reason to.”
I walk a bit slower, to extend our time together. “Rosehill Pines is beautiful in the spring… There’s a hot air balloon festival in March.” I push my nose into the scarf when he’s not looking my way, and try to remember the fresh scent clinging to it, so I can remember it later, in bed. Whatever happens, this evening has already been the best one in forever. For once, I’m not thinking about bashing Otto Grass’s head open with a nail-studded baseball bat, but about warm skin and the weight of a man on top of me. It feels illegal to have such thoughts about someone I know in person, but Saint keeps close, sliding the backs of his fingers against my hand as we face our respective doors in the quiet of the evening.
“I had something else in mind, actually,” he says, capturing my gaze with his tempting hazel eyes.
My heart beats faster, and I can’t look away from his handsome features. An intrusive thought tells me he might be hypnotizing me, or that he drugged me, but I shake it off, melting in the warmth of his attention.
“What is it?” I ask, but then the light in the corridor goes off.
The twinkling lamps outside illuminate him faintly, and as their color changes from green and yellow to red, he seems even more handsome. He’s my Christmas miracle.
But the darkness means I’ve already prolonged the time needed to get from the elevator to our doors beyond reason.
Saint clears his throat, the faint glow from outside making his smile appear soft, almost shy. “I really enjoyed myself tonight, and…well, I was thinking maybe you’d like to continue this evening at mine?”
Anxiety wraps its cold fingers around my throat, preventing me from speaking. This is my dream come true. Saint, this absolutely stunning man, is interested in me. And I’m standing there like an idiot instead of jumping his bones.
It’s as if he can sense my hesitation, and he slides his fingers over my hand. The warm touch thaws my nerves, and the tightness in my throat finally eases.
“I… I want to. So much. But… I have this thing. About being in someone’s house, or inviting them to mine. It’s not about you,” I say quickly and squeeze his hand because it’s hard for me to find the right words. “Especially at night. I’ve experienced a… break-in, and I get nervous about these things. I know it’s unreasonable. Sorry.”
Saint’s features turn grim, and he pulls me close, wrapping his firm arms around me. Oh, it’s been so long since I’ve been held. And never quite like this. Heat floods my face as I bury my nose in the folds of his coat, but I let him hug me, so content for him to be the barrier between me and the world.
We only met earlier today, yet I already crave him like I crave revenge on those who wronged me.
“That’s awful,” he whispers.
I hug him back, basking in how safe he makes me feel. He’s bigger than me, and strong enough to carry me down the stairs. I always liked men who were a bit older than me but never realized how much I actually desire knowing that someone’s taking care of me. Maybe because the big guys I interact with at the hunting store make me walk on pins and needles. But Saint feels… safe.