Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 138541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 693(@200wpm)___ 554(@250wpm)___ 462(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 693(@200wpm)___ 554(@250wpm)___ 462(@300wpm)
“Like me with rats. I doubt I’ll ever go camping again.”
“Exactly. Anyway…” He gives the shell of my ear a gentle bite and rolls to the side, keeping his leg tangled between mine as he props himself up on his elbow. “Whenever I get the chance to undress you…”
“Which is quite often as of late, not including the past few nights.”
He continues talking as if I hadn’t have spoken. “The result is better each time. You amaze me.” I let out a soft sigh when his fingers begin tickling my back with a barely there touch. “And every moment I spend with you, I forget all of the bad things. You’re my Lego castle.”
“The Eighteen rated version,” I snigger, earning me another slap on my arse.
“And the sex… I feel like I’ve been dead for twenty five years.”
“Twenty five?” I ask, confused. “You had a birthday?”
He winces. “No.”
“Liar!”
“It was a while ago. Don’t worry about it.”
The guilt shining from his eyes tells me different. “When exactly is a while ago?”
“Look… I don’t do birthdays. My birthdays have never been what you would call joyous occasions. Just forget about it.”
Narrowing my eyes, I push myself up onto my knees and place my hands against his shoulders. “When was your birthday, Nathan?”
“I don’t remember.”
Growl. “When was your birthday?”
“I don’t have birthdays.”
My scowl deepens. “When was your birthday?”
“Can’t we just make love and forget about this?”
Sigh. “We don’t make love Nathan, or have you forgotten that you don’t do oral? You need oral to make love in my opinion.”
He barely hides his grimace. “I’ll give you oral for your birthday.”
Eye roll. “And how will you manage that?”
His face falls. “Is it really that important to you?”
“No! Of course not. I’m only joking.”
“I’ll work on it… maybe I can…”
I slap my hand over his mouth and stare into his eyes, hopefully projecting my irritation at his avoidance. “When was your birthday?”
“Last Monday,” he blurts and grips my arms before I can start beating him. “It’s not a big deal.”
I beg to differ.
I move away from him and stand, forgetting about my lack of clothing as I move towards the door. “Where are you going?” He asks, following close behind. I ignore him and make my way towards the stairs.
I can’t believe he didn’t tell me it was his birthday! What is wrong with him?
“Are you going to respond?”
I almost say no, but then I realise that would be a response and quickly clamp my mouth shut.
He continues following me silently, all the way down the stairs and into the kitchen. It’s not until I collect one of the cupcakes I made earlier today from the fridge and place it on the side that he asks me what I’m doing.
What can I use as a… ah ha!
“Really?” He snorts as I place the small round tea candle on top of the brown frosting, which I always store under the sink just in case of a power cut. “Oh come on, Gwen.”
I light the small wick held firmly by the white wax and hold the cupcake to his face.
“Aren’t you going to sing happy birthday?” He jokes, tapping his chin in thought. “I wish my girlfriend would speak.”
He blows it out and smiles fondly at me. That is until I take the candle from the top and smash the cake against his mouth. “Happy birthday,” I say sarcastically and leave him to his silent freak out, sniggering as I go.
That was very mean.
He deserved it.
When he finally makes it back to bed, I’m expecting him to scold me and pin me on the bed with those amazing arms as his eyes burn with anger. He doesn’t.
Instead, he climbs into his side and flips onto his stomach so he’s facing away from me.
I think I may have messed up. “Did I upset you? That wasn’t my intention.” Or maybe it was. I don’t know.
“No.”
I kiss the back of his shoulder and rest my cheek between his shoulder blades. “Please stop keeping things from me.”
“Sure.”
Sigh.
“Goodnight.”
“Night,” he mutters.
I sigh again and close my eyes.
It’s not until I’m sleeping that he finally rolls into me. I’m not completely convinced that he did it because he wanted to and not because he thought he had to. This is because the moment I awoke, he rolled away.
The entire situation seems to be forgotten as soon as I go for the mail after breakfast and I spot another of those envelopes lying on the mat. It’s been folded length ways to allow it to fit through the letterbox. My fingers burn as I scoop it from the ground, my mind desperately screaming at me to read it.
I have to close my eyes for a moment to convince myself that whatever is in this envelope could destroy us and I don’t want that at all. I’m happy, for the first time since Caleb, as much as it pains me to say it.