Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 89224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
“I had dinner with Hazel and Winter,” he says, and I know I should not be jealous, but I am. That reaction is useless in this situation, but there is no denying the emotion as it snakes its way around my insides. Maybe it’s because of their connection and the fact that they were together for so long. Or maybe it’s just because I haven’t met her or seen the two of them interact. Maybe seeing them together when I meet Hazel will put my mind at ease and make me feel less vulnerable in these situations.
“Miranda mentioned she and Tucker are going to hang out upstairs with everyone. Do you want to join them?”
His eyes lock on mine, then he turns so that we are face-to-face and wraps his arms around my waist, holding me snug. “Not really, but if you do, we can go for a little while.”
“I’m good here if you are.” I slide my arms around him and rest the side of my head against his chest. He palms the back of my head, his fingers massaging my scalp, while his free hand on my back splays wide. Safe. I feel safe like this. “What time do you work tomorrow?” I ask on a whisper, his fingers in my hair making my eyelids feel heavy.
“I gotta leave early, probably around seven,” he says, going quiet before asking, “How do you feel about staying the night tonight?”
My heart starts to speed up at the idea of sleeping in his bed with him. Do I want that? Yes. But am I ready for that step?
I know agreeing to stay the night doesn’t mean we have to have sex, but without Winter here and a bed at our disposal, it will more than likely happen. Would I regret it? The first answer that comes to mind is no.
“I didn’t bring any clothes.”
“You can borrow something of mine.”
“Okay.”
“You sure?” His hold on me tightens.
Tipping my head back, I look up at him. “How many meals have we had together?”
His lips tip up, and his grin turns roguish. “Since I started counting last week, six.”
Laughing, I drop my forehead to the center of his chest. “Of course you’ve kept count.”
He doesn’t laugh. He wraps his hand around the side of my neck, then uses his thumb on my chin to tip my head back, forcing me to meet his gaze. Once he has my eyes, his other hand moves to my cheek, and his expression turns serious.
“As badly as I want to fuck you, Em, I’m honest-to-God good with just holding you tonight.”
Oh shit, I’m going to cry. My stupid nose starts to sting, and my throat gets tight. As impossible as I know it should be, I’m pretty sure I’m already halfway in love with this man and completely ruined, regardless of how hard I’ve worked to protect myself and him.
Since talking would give away just how much his statement has affected me, I nod, then drag in a relieved breath when he once more tucks my face against his chest and wraps his arms around me.
CHAPTER 20
miles
“Here, come with me.” I let Emma go then and take her hand to lead her across the apartment, through my bedroom, and into the bathroom, flipping on the light.
“What are we doing in here?” she asks, looking around when I let her hand go.
“I have some work to do still, so while I finish up, you’re going to take a bath.” I dig under the sink for the bottle of bubble bath I know Winter keeps there, finding the bottle, I then walk to the tub and turn it on.
“I haven’t had a bath since I was a kid,” she says quietly, and I glance over at her. The tears I saw in her eyes are gone, but there’s still a tension surrounding her that is difficult to miss.
“Did you enjoy taking baths?”
“Of course. I just haven’t lived anywhere with an actual tub in years.”
“Then it’s a good thing your man has one you can use any time you want,” I say, and her eyes fly up to meet mine.
Jesus, I thought I was apprehensive about starting a relationship with her due to our connection. I never would have guessed she’d be even more cautious than me. But as crazy as it sounds, it just makes me want her, want this, even more. I know her worry is coming from a place of concern for my daughter and my family. She isn’t jumping in headfirst without making sure the ground below us is clear, and I appreciate that. Especially when I’ve got the urge to jump without looking—something I never would’ve considered before.
I screw off the lid and dump some bubbles under the running stream. With the bath now filling with suds and steaming water, I toss the now empty bottle into the trash, then walk to her. “Do you want a glass of wine?”