Total pages in book: 166
Estimated words: 156145 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 781(@200wpm)___ 625(@250wpm)___ 520(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 156145 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 781(@200wpm)___ 625(@250wpm)___ 520(@300wpm)
She smacked his hand and bared her teeth in what was almost a grin. “Food, Livingston. Not only did we do spin class and then walk home, but you blew my mind seven ways to Sunday in the bathroom earlier. I need calories and, before you say anything, not the kind of calories that come from your cock.” She paused in the gap leading out of the walk-in shower and surveyed him. “Though it’s a mighty fine cock and I plan to use and abuse it later.”
He barked out a laugh. “Noted. Go get started on your calories. I’m right behind you.”
“Better enjoy the view then.” She gave a little shake of her ass and hell if he didn’t enjoy the view before she wrapped a towel around herself and walked out of the bathroom.
He wasted no time finishing scrubbing down and followed suit. He found her in the living room, setting up the wings on the coffee table. Aaron ducked into the kitchen to grab them glasses of water and an extra glass of cranberry juice for her, and then he joined her on the couch.
It was only then that he noticed what she was wearing.
Becka sat cross-legged, her petite body swallowed up by one of his college T-shirts. The thing was so old, it was one of the softest he owned, and the image on the front had faded away to almost nothing. Rationally, he understood why she gravitated to the shirt, but his gut said it marked her as his. That she was settling in for the long haul and this was a fucking relationship, not two people who happened to live together and would have a baby together in the relatively near future.
Whether her choice in clothing said that to her was another story.
She tasted the jalapeño jelly dip and made a little moaning sound. “Oh, damn. This was such a good call.”
“Glad it’s hitting the spot.” To keep himself from staring at her as she ate, he grabbed the remote and flicked through the channels until he landed on something that halfway caught his interest. It was an old movie, and he instantly recognized the blonde waltzing her way across the screen.
Becka obviously did, too, because she nodded. “Gentlemen Prefer Blondes. Good choice.”
Even if he hadn’t planned on keeping it there, he would have set the remote down at her interest. “I take it you like it?”
“What’s not to like? Lady friendships, a smoking-hot private investigator and some killer songs thrown in for spice.” She cut one of the peanut butter wings in two and dipped it into the jelly. “It’s a classic, and I used to say I was Dorothy to Allie’s Lorelei.” She made a face. “Minus all the gold-digging stuff. That sort of thing leads to nothing but trouble.”
Aaron draped his arm over the back of the couch. “You like old movies, play D&D and are a jock in your own right.” He grinned. “You like to keep people guessing.”
“Maybe people.” She sipped her drink. “Maybe just you. Most people try to slap a label on me the second they meet me, but they never bother to dig deeper. Their loss, I guess. My people get me, and they don’t expect me to change so they can shove me into a neat little box.” She shrugged.
He should keep his damn mouth shut, but Aaron was sick of fucking around. He wanted Becka—in his bed and in his life permanently. Even if he slow-played this thing into the ground, he couldn’t sit on his hands indefinitely. It wasn’t fair to either of them. “I could be one of your people if you’ll let me get close enough, minx.”
“I know.” She sighed. “Look, this is weird for me, too. I like you. It freaks me out, which is normally the part where I ghost whatever dude I’m seeing, but that’s obviously not an option in our case, because where the hell am I going to run when I have to come track you down in about six months?”
“You want this to stop because it’s not doing it for you, that’s one thing.” He watched her closely, took in the tension in her shoulders and the way she stared pointedly at her food. Too damn bad, Becka. This is going to get said. “But to try to run from me because you care too much? Fuck that.”
“Try?”
“You heard me. I care about your contrary ass, and you care about me right back. I’m not pushing you right now, but if you bolt, I’m going to track your ass down and have a conversation like adults.”
She finally twisted to face him, blue eyes flashing. “You call this not pushing?”
“That’s exactly what I call this.” He clenched his jaw and worked to modulate his tone. “We have time. You need more, then you have it. But I’m not going anywhere. I’m not your commitment-phobic dad and you’re sure as fuck not your flighty-ass mom. Stop using them as an excuse to keep me from getting close to you.”