Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 70444 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70444 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
As I spoke, he never betrayed a thing. He was calm, cool and collected.
Unless you looked at his fists.
They were clenched so stinkin’ tight that it was almost worrisome. Was it possible to break your hand by clenching it? Because if it was, he’d do it.
“Anyway, long story short, I had a few too many unwanted visitors in my room between the ages of fourteen and seventeen when I finally left my parents’ place. It seriously fucked with my head, and well, now I just can’t seem to tolerate a man’s touch.”
Any man’s touch but his, apparently.
He’d picked me up off the ground as I started to sob, and not once did I start freaking out worse. In fact, it only started to get worse when he sat me down and stepped away from me.
Which was really quite odd.
I’d never been able to tolerate any man’s touch, which explained my twenty-six-year-old virgin status.
You couldn’t have sex if you wouldn’t let the other person touch you.
“Let me get this straight, you’re working in a bar where there are a bunch of drunk men that don’t give one single fuck that you’re scared…”
I shrugged at Johnny’s flippant words. “I can’t help that my best friend’s father owns the bar. And honestly, since I started working here, my freak outs have diminished. I can tolerate being around men, but I still have a problem with the touching. I’m working on it.”
“You’re working on it…” he murmured. “I just…I don’t think that’s a good idea. There has to be other ways that you can combat these demons. You don’t have to work at a bar, one that caters to a rough and rowdy crowd, to get over this affliction.”
“I need a way that isn’t going to freak me out or cost me money, but I don’t have the time for it, or the money,” I told him frankly. “And it’s sweet of you to care, really it is, but I’m okay.”
He looked like he didn’t believe me.
As he shouldn’t.
I didn’t have anything together.
Not one. Damn. Thing.
***
“Look at him go,” Amanda whispered, pointing to the screen where the replay of the security cameras was running.
I leaned forward and watched as Johnny took down both men within a half a minute of walking into the bar.
He had them both subdued and on the floor moments after that, and thirty seconds after that, he had me in his arms and pulled into his chest.
“I can’t believe you didn’t completely freak when he picked you up. I kept waiting for it, but you never did.” She shook her head.
I watched myself on the screen as I was picked up like I weighed next to nothing, his bulky arms circling around my back and under my legs as he carried me away from the two men.
It wasn’t until I was practically half a bar away from them that Johnny set me down on the nearest bar stool and put both of his large hands on my face, forcing me to look at him.
He spoke softly to me, bent down slightly so his face was close to mine, and I could practically see myself coming back to life on the security feed.
From the point that I lifted my eyes, I remembered every single second. The way his voice was soft. How warm his hands were on my skin. The way he gave me space the moment that I’d come back to myself.
I could still feel the heat of his hands where they’d rested against my cheeks.
“I think he’s the one.”
I rolled my eyes. “We’re not talking about this, Amanda. I’m not going to do anything with him, let alone that.”
Amanda had been trying for years to get me to do that certain something with someone. She’d even offered up her brother—her brother who was so far from attractive that it nearly made me laugh.
What he was, though, was sweet, and I knew without a shadow of a doubt that he wouldn’t hurt me.
But, I couldn’t do it.
I couldn’t do it with her brother, and I most certainly wouldn’t be doing it with Officer Hottie.
Nope. No. Nuh-uh.
Chapter 5
Why does one have to be told it’s illegal to drag race down Main Street? One would think it’d be common sense.
-Hostel PD FB page
Johnny
“I want you to go out on a date with one of my friends,” Janie said, holding the cell phone screen toward my face as we Facetimed.
I frowned. “Who?”
“You remember Reagan? Her dad is on the SWAT team with mine?”
The name sounded vaguely familiar.
I frowned. “Vaguely. What’s she look like?”
I tried to get a picture with the name in my head, but it wasn’t coming to me.
“She has long brown, curly hair that’s down to her hips. Freckles. Sweet. Bookish. Your type.”
I rolled my eyes knowing that she could see my facial expressions on the cell phone screen.