Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 79462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
“For my first time—” I clear my throat. “I mean, first time sleeping in your bed, it wasn’t so bad.”
“It was a night of firsts.” His smile is tight like he’s trying not to laugh. Which I appreciate. “How are you feeling?”
“I think I feel okay.” I frown to myself, focusing on my body for a second. “Sore. But it’s not bad.”
“That’ll pass. The next time will be easier, and the time after that will be easier, and so on.”
“There’s a next time?”
“I think so.” He turns and looks at the ocean.
“I’m not so sure.”
“You enjoyed it. Your first time, and you enjoyed it. Imagine what it’ll be like if we keep going?”
I frown to myself. That’s exactly the problem. If we do keep going, and it only gets better, what’ll happen to us? Right now, we have some kind of uneasy truce—we hate each other, but we’re also fucking because apparently we’re a couple of stupid horndogs that can’t help it—but what if something changes?
“Sex complicates things,” I say after a little while.
“Only people that have bad sex say that.” He shakes his head. “We’re not going to stop.”
“Why are you so damn confident all the time?”
“It’s not hard to be confident when you orgasmed all over my cock last night and moaned as I called you my good girl.”
“Oh, god,” I mutter, ears turning pink. “Could you fucking not? It’s so early.”
“I have some time if you’d like to go back to bed.”
“No, thank you much.”
“Your loss.” He shifts toward me, puts an arm around my waist, and pulls me against him. I let out a surprised yelp as he kisses my cheek. It feels nice, his scruff and his soft lips. It feels good. “I wouldn’t mind.”
“I bet you wouldn’t.” I extricate myself. “You should go shower. You’ve got work.”
“I guess so. What are your plans for the day?”
“I thought I’d have a leisurely breakfast, take a bath, wander around. The usual.”
“Casey’s working later. You should go sit at her table and tell her all about how good it felt to lose your virginity to your husband.”
“Hard pass.”
“Your loss. She likes you, you know.”
“I like her too.” I glance at him. “What do you care, anyway? Why’s it matter if your brother’s wife likes me?”
“It doesn’t.” His smile fades. “But it matters to you.” He leaves then, heading back inside.
I let him go and stay outside a little longer than I wanted, fighting the cold with hot coffee. I don’t know what to do about that man. There are moments where he seems to genuinely care about me, then there are moments where it’s like I’m nothing more than an annoyance, like a pile of spilled cereal or something. I felt like this sometimes when I was little, a girl running around with the boys, an annoying speck begging her older brother to teach her things. Except there’s a weird sexual element with Jayson that never existed when I was little, and that makes it so much more complicated.
Home was easy. I miss it desperately. I take deep breaths and blow air out, trying not to imagine my little flat situated above a bakery, the smell of bread coming up every morning, dampened only by the sounds of the bakers cussing at each other at ungodly hours. My cousins meeting at the pub around the corner, the girls drinking ciders and laughing at the boys, having family dinner with the aunts and uncles. I miss everyone and it kills me, stuck here in this country with these people I don’t know. There’s luxury here and that’s nice, but luxury doesn’t make up for real love.
Then there’s my father, the memory of him still looming like a ghost. I can almost pretend he’s back in Dublin with the rest, though I know he’s not. Only his body, tossed under dirt. That’s where my heart’s at, and even if I want to feel something for Jayson despite all the reasons why I shouldn’t, there’s nothing in me left to feel it. I’ve been excavated, emptied out, and now I’m a shell.
When my fingers finally get so numb I can’t stand it anymore, I turn and head inside. Jayson’s gone. Just like I planned.
There’s not much for me to do. Back home, I’d go to work. I had an office job in a shipping company related to the clan. It was dull, but at least I knew everyone and it was something to do. Papa kept promising something better. That never panned out.
I take a bath as threatened and ease myself into the water. I read for a while before getting out, showering off, and dressing. The condo’s empty, my footsteps echoing. The place is cavernous, and I pause outside of the guest room, thinking of the photocopied paperwork hidden in the closet in a little bathroom pipe access panel, shoved back into the wall. Not the best spot, but good enough for a little while. I’m tempted to leaf through it all and get a sense of what it means, but can’t bring myself to do it. I already regret telling Rian the stuff exists.