Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 128430 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 514(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128430 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 514(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
“Happily.” There’s a cockiness to his tone that I don’t hear much, but it doesn’t bother me when I do.
Walking down the short hall, I look to the left, recalling a bathroom being there the night of that party. When I see it with the door propped open, my feet stop as if this time I can protect myself. I’d be wise not to go there again.
My hands start shaking, and my chest tightens, causing my breathing to labor. I close my eyes and try to put the reality of the circumstance into perspective. That night, and Troy cheating, was never about me. It was always about him.
“Story?”
I open my eyes to see Cooper standing in the doorway of his bedroom. “Are you coming?”
Putting on a happy face for him, I refuse to hold that night against the man who’s been nothing short of a knight in shining armor. I close the distance between us. “Yeah, can’t wait to see where the magic happens. Wait . . .” I start laughing, though a twinge has stifled the usual butterflies I feel around him. “That didn’t come out right. I don’t want to think about you having magic with other people.” I laugh, but even I can hear the hollowness, so I know he can.
“I can assure you that no magic has ever happened with anyone else.”
“Look, I know you’re not a virgin.” But then his words sink deeper, what he means reaching the surface of my understanding. Instead of invading his bedroom, I wrap myself around his middle and just hold him, hug him, and savor how sweet he is to me, how lucky I am to have found him—for us to find each other.
We spin in the doorway, and I’m greeted by a bed that reminds me of the hotel—big with thick covers, fluffy sleeping pillows, and a wooden headboard. The same wood is used in the nightstands and a dresser. The room is a deep blue with a hint of green saturated into the paint. Without any knickknacks around, the room looks more temporary as if he’s just passing through. My stomach knots.
We haven’t talked about long-term plans. Hell, we haven’t even talked about next week. I assume he’s leaving for the rest of the break, but a little hope living in my heart prays he’ll stay. Without the weight of school filling our days, we’d have those hours with each other. Am I being selfish for wanting all his time for myself?
Probably, but it’s so fun being in a relationship with him that I’m okay with being called selfish.
I look up at him, a plot formulating. “Can I?”
He already knows what I’m asking. “Go for it.”
I run and jump onto the bed, facedown, and then starfish my limbs to claim as much space as I can.
“How is it?” he asks. “Is it Story approved?”
Rolling over, I sigh, closing my eyes and sinking deeper into this cloud. “Exceeds the gold-star standard.” Lifting my head, I ask, “Why have you been keeping this bed from me?”
He chuckles and comes over, sitting at the end of the mattress. His hand rests over my ankle so casually that I can’t help but feel a jolt of happiness through me. I’m becoming a part of his every day. I love that.
Then he says, “I need to tell you something.”
It’s tempting to pull back, to tuck my legs under me and move toward the headboard to put space between us. But that’s not what I’m going to do, not with Cooper. Instead, I say, “You can tell me anything.”
He glances back, and that’s when I see the concern in his eyes, the weight of something bigger tidal-waving and dimming the light.
I move down and sit next to him. Our hands find each other’s, and our fingers fold together. When he doesn’t say anything, I keep my gaze to the floor and whisper, “It’s okay. We’ll be okay.” I’m not even sure why I say that other than the pit of my stomach is now cradling my heart. “I promise.”
Looking at me out of the corner of his eye, he says, “You’ve been here before. That’s why I haven’t invited you over. I didn’t want you to think poorly of me.”
“Don’t worry, poor never factors into the equation when it comes to you.” I laugh lightly, but I know there’s more truth in that joke than I’m admitting.
“And I saw you. I saw you with… him.”
“I don’t understand. What do you mean you saw me? How would you even remember me? A packed party.” I lean my head on his shoulder. His arm comes around to cover my back, his hand comforting me by rubbing my side. “It was not a good night.”
“No. Not my finest hour, but I remember you. I remember the skirt and tights, how you wore your hair down with a wave in the front. I remember how he had his arm around your neck, not your back or shoulders, but your neck.”