Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 119230 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 596(@200wpm)___ 477(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119230 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 596(@200wpm)___ 477(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
I scoff and push her back to bed before making my way into her walk-in and scanning through all the drawers. I have no idea where she keeps her pajamas but, judging from what I’ve seen over the few weeks she’s been living next door, an old comfortable shirt and underwear usually does the trick.
Making my way out of her closet, I toss her clothes onto the edge of her bed before going through to her private bathroom and filling a glass of water. I come back out just in time to see her place the painkillers into her mouth, and I hand her the glass to wash them down.
She makes quick work of it, cringing as the pills make their way down her sore throat, and I step into her before reaching for the top button of her school blouse. “You don’t have to do this,” she tells me, her eyes locked on me while I focus on her buttons. “It will suck, but I can manage.”
I shake my head, reaching the final button and popping it open before pushing her school blouse off her shoulders and letting the soft material fall to the bed behind her. “It’s no problem,” I tell her, feeling more than responsible for what happened to her today. “I don’t like to see you hurting.”
“Really?” she says, a soft chuckle in her tone. “And here I was thinking you loved seeing me in pain.”
I roll my eyes. “I like getting under your skin, making you squirm and rage at me for inconveniencing you. That’s a shitload different than hurting you or seeing you in real, physical pain.” My gaze drops to her bandaged ribs and scans over the bruises peeking out from beneath it. “I don’t like this.”
Grabbing her pajama shirt off the edge of the bed, I carefully pull it over her head and help her get her arms through the holes, hating how she tries to be strong, despite knowing all too well how much a broken rib sucks. I pull the blankets back and help her into bed before taking her phone and plugging it into the charger. “You, umm …” she says, scrunching her face as if unsure if she should continue. “Do you want to stay here tonight?”
I pause and look at her, my heart beating just a fraction faster. “You want me to stay?”
Bri bites her bottom lip and nods. “I don’t want to be alone.”
Decisions. Decisions. Spend the rest of my night with her in my arms or go back to my room and spend countless hours staring up at my ceiling and wishing I could be here. It’s a no-brainer. “Okay,” I tell her, moving around the other side of her bed and kicking off my shoes as I dump all my things on the bedside table. “Your mom isn’t going to have a problem with this?”
“I don’t think my mom has spared a single thought for what I do since we first got here.”
I fucking hate that she’s right. “You deserve better, Bri,” I tell her, slipping into her bed and reaching out for her. “Come here.”
She crawls into my arms and rests her head on my chest, right where she belongs and I find peace settling over me. This just feels right. Me and Brielle … maybe I should be looking deeper into this. She’s so much more than some chick I wanted to fuck out of my system, but the idea of this being something real terrifies me. It makes me vulnerable and hands her the power to destroy me, and at some point, I’m going to fuck it up. I’m going to end up hurting her and she deserves so much better than that … better than me.
The exhaustion of the day quickly catches up to her and she falls into a restless sleep. I can only imagine what kind of bullshit nightmares are terrorizing her sleep. I bet Colby’s face is flashing in her mind, the fear of seeing his car hurtling toward hers and not being able to stop it, or the way he crushed her and tightened his grip around her neck. That moment will stay with her for the rest of her life, and I hate that there’s not a goddamn thing I can do to take it away.
I turn into her, my chin resting on top of her head as her fruity shampoo lingers in the air. I close my eyes and am just drifting to sleep when my phone buzzes on the bedside table. I cringe and reach for it, hoping the call doesn’t wake Bri.
I’m just about to silence it when I see it’s an incoming call from Mom and my eyes widen, my heart leaping in my chest. Dread fills my veins as I pull out of bed, trying not to jostle Bri while also hurrying not to miss the call. There’s only one reason my mother would call me in the middle of the night and I … fuck. Addison better be okay. I need her to be okay.