Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 158635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 793(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 158635 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 793(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
That’s when I drove her home and got a whole questionnaire from Xander about if I’d done something to his daughter.
I fucking wish, future father-in-law.
He’d be happy to know that drunken hug was the only time I’ve touched her so intimately in fucking months.
My hand and cock have a vendetta against her and will carry it out in full the moment I have her again.
But I have to put that on hold.
For now.
I watch her from my hideout behind the tree opposite the window of Glyndon’s house. I’ve come to know all their houses and their security, which are okay, I guess. They could use some improvement, but then again, they don’t share the lifestyle I have back at home.
Today is apparently Glyndon’s birthday and everyone is there—Killian included. He’s about to be punched by Landon and will eventually punch him back, and I’m here for the show.
Now, if only Kill will get rid of him for good, I’ll die a happy man.
As if knowing I’m outside, Landon leans in to tell Cecily something that she smiles at.
I tighten my grip on the bike’s handles, but I force myself to remain calm.
There’s nothing between them. He’s just getting on my last fucking nerve because of everything I did to ruin his fun right before school ended.
I slashed his tires, too, the other day, just to be a dick. Looks like I’ll have to bust the windows of his car next. While he’s inside it.
Can’t stand the fucking asshole.
I engrave every detail of Cecily to memory. The laughter, the beautiful flowery summer dresses she doesn’t shy away from wearing lately.
She doesn’t go into that paralyzed state either.
My Cecily has learned to move past her trauma and grow into this…ethereal being that I want to hide from the world.
But I can’t. And I won’t.
I just want to have her because I simply can’t imagine life without her.
After one last look at her, I slam down the shield of my helmet and rev my bike before I speed down the road.
Half an hour later, I’m at the airport. One of my father’s guards nods at me, and I nod back. I stare behind me in search of Ilya since he’s supposed to bring the car and follow after.
A few minutes later, the car stops by the plane’s stairwell.
The passenger door flies open, and Cecily nearly throws herself outside. She runs to me, panting, her breath caught, and her face so pale, I can see the veins.
She grabs my hand in hers, tears gathering in her big green eyes. And while I’m over the moon that she’s touching me, I don’t like the tears.
“Why haven’t you told me?” Her voice is brittle and so fucking sad, it cuts me open.
“Told you what?”
“That you’re sick. You’re dying?” She all but bursts out crying, her tiny frame shaking, her choked breathing filling the air.
Ilya steps out of the car next, looking absolutely calm.
“I’m dying?” I mouth.
“I had to do something. It’s boring to watch whatever foreplay this is.” Then he takes the stairs and gets on the plane.
“You could’ve told me.” She wraps her arms around me, her body molding to mine as she cries her eyes out. “I wouldn’t have been so cruel. I would’ve spent as much time with you as possible.”
I wrap my hand around her back, relishing the feeling of her pliant body against me.
Fuck.
It’s been so long that I wish time would stop at this moment.
“Does that mean you forgive me?” I go with Ilya’s stupid plan.
“I think I forgave you a long time ago.” She digs her nails into my back.
“Then why were you giving me the cold shoulder?”
“Because I was scared of getting hurt again, because you’re the only one who’s able to hurt me.”
“I won’t hurt you, Cecily.” I tug her away so that I’m staring at her tear-streaked face. “You’re the fire to my icy heart, and while I loathed that at the beginning, I soon came to the realization that I can’t survive without that fire. My feelings for you are nowhere near conventional. They’re neither proportional nor measurable, and that heart you melted and the emotions you provoked belong to you. I’d rather be smashed and broken to pieces with you than be whole without you. I’d rather remain a beast for you than become a man who has to survive without you.”
“Oh, Jeremy…” Her hand strokes my cheek. “Why haven’t you said any of this before?”
“You never gave me a chance.”
“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I let my fear keep us apart.”
“Does that mean you’ll love me again?”
“I never stopped, idiot.”
“Even if I’m dying?”
She cries harder. “Don’t say that! Medicine is so advanced these days, and there’s surely a solution.”
“You’d love a man with a few months to live?”
“I wouldn’t have any other man.” More tears. More sniffles.