Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 79821 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79821 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
My feelings haven’t changed, but he’s sending all kinds of mixed signals.
I try to make a break for the front door, but Samson blocks my path. “Stella,” he rumbles my name and despite how upset I am at him, I shiver.
“Ugh! Just go hang out with Orion. Or better yet, go home!” I shout, my humiliation giving way to tears. I know telling him to go home is a low blow. He’s told me over and over how much he hates it at the Scotts’.
“You love me?” he asks, his voice deceptively soft.
I nod, not trusting myself to speak.
“I…” he trails off, unknowingly gutting me.
“It’s okay.” I will myself not to cry. “I know you don’t feel the same way.”
“You’re too young for me, Stella.”
I roll my eyes. “Age is only a number.”
“Numbers have meaning. Wanna know another number?”
I nod.
“Twenty.”
“What’s important about twenty?” Like, are we just throwing out random numbers now? It’s not even how old he is.
“That’s how many years I could go to jail for touching you.”
Worry flashes like lightning in my veins as I shake my head back and forth, my long blonde hair whipping all around me. “No! I don’t… I don’t want that. I’m sorry, Samson, I didn’t know.”
Shock quickly follows when he wraps his strong arms around me. “I know you didn’t, Luna.”
“I’ll wait for you then,” I mumble against his chest, feeling every bit as hopeful as I do dumb. “If you want…”
He tenses, but then asks, “You’d do that?”
Sniffling, I nod.
“Oh—” The sound of the front door unlatching silences whatever he was about to say.
We jump apart right as Orion steps out onto the porch. “Stella,” he says my name in that annoying way of his before turning to Samson. “Is she bugging you?”
“Nah, man. She’s fine.”
Orion rolls his eyes but lets it drop. “Whatever. Heather called. She and Annabeth are going to the lake and invited us. She mentioned something about new bikinis and wanting us to inspect them, if you know what I mean.” He wags his brows and I nearly vomit on the spot.
Samson glances my way before I can hide the hurt in my eyes. “You wanna come?” he asks, completely ignoring my brother’s answering groan.
“No thanks,” I whisper. “Wouldn’t wanna intrude.”
“Come on!” Orion hollers, already on his way down the steps to his truck.
“Be right there,” Samson calls back, keeping his eyes on mine. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I’ve already put myself out there enough to last a lifetime. There’s no way I’m about to tell him I don’t want him to go.
“Stella.”
“It’s just… I told you I loved you and you’re going off to inspect Annabeth Johnson’s bikini. Whatever. It’s dumb. This is dumb. Have fun.”
I try—again—to shove past him, but he grabs my wrist at the last possible moment. “I won’t touch her.”
My cheeks lift as I beam up at him. “Really? You’re gonna wait for me too?”
“I… we’ll talk more about this later, okay?”
And talk about it we did—often and at length. For months and months, we went back and forth, weighing the pros and cons of acting on our feelings.
I was sixteen by the time we reached a compromise—I would be his and he would be mine, in secret until my eighteenth birthday.
Much to my dismay, our agreement came with the caveat that Samson wouldn’t lay a single finger on me until after my eighteenth birthday.
But I’d wait forever if it meant I got to call him mine.
Chapter One
Stella, Age 16
“Happy Birthday, Luna.” I blink my eyes awake to the sound of my favorite voice in the entire world.
“Samson,” I murmur, sleepily, glancing toward where he lingers in my doorway. Despite us being together and him being a fixture in our house, he never comes inside of my room. He says it’s a sign of respect for my dad… whatever that means.
“Up and at ‘em, birthday girl. We have plans.”
“What time is it? It’s a school day.”
“Your dad said you could play hooky.”
I bolt upright. “What? Really?”
“Yup. So, hop in the shower and get dressed!”
Excitement races through me at the thought of skipping school and spending the day with Samson. Talk about the best sweet sixteen ever.
“Okay.”
“I’ll be waiting in the kitchen.” He smiles at me in that way that makes my belly flip. “But, Luna…”
“Yeah?”
“Hurry.”
As soon as I hear his feet hit the stairs, I fly out of bed and into my bathroom. I brush my teeth and toss my hair into a loose braid before rushing back into my room to get dressed.
I throw on my favorite jeans and a pink plaid button-down, slide my feet into my boots, spritz on my favorite body spray and call it good.
I take the stairs two at a time, more than ready for my mom’s famous cinnamon roll pancakes—they’ve been my birthday breakfast of choice since I was ten—but when I step into the kitchen, Samson is alone.