Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 107687 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107687 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
“Yeah, I got that,” I answer, rocking on my heels. “In my defense, I love reading, and it was really good. I read it all night.”
“Way to make me look bad,” she snaps at me, and I smile.
“You’ll love the ending.”
“Don’t tell me a word, or I’ll drown you in that pond,” she warns, and I hold back my laughter. The rosy hue of her cheeks deepens, and I have to fight tooth and nail not to reach out and touch her. “I’m surprised you haven’t brought up the letter.”
I choose my words carefully and then decide to go with the truth. “Do you want me to?”
“Not really,” she admits, clearing her throat. “But I’m sure we need to discuss it.”
“Do you write a lot of letters?”
“When I get upset like that, it helps me to write down everything in letter form. I have written letters to everyone who has wronged me, but usually I just burn them. I’ve never given one to someone.”
“But you gave it to me?”
“Yeah. I needed you to know. It helps me accept my feelings and move on.”
“So, you’ve moved on from what you wrote?” I ask, praying to God she hasn’t.
“Not at all,” she says, meeting my gaze. “You truly piss me off.”
“You’re not the first to say that,” I tell her, holding her gaze. “My mom says only the strong can deal with me.”
“Your mother is a saint, from what I gather,” she says, her eyes dark like caramel. “But beyond the fact that you drive me insane with your arrogance and the fact that you are never affected by anything—”
“I’m affected by you,” I say, stopping her words.
“Doesn’t seem so.”
I shrug. “I am.”
She swallows uncertainly, her eyes sparkling. “I am affected by you, and I enjoy you. Immensely.”
“Didn’t expect you to say that.”
“Neither did I,” she admits. “At least, not out loud.”
An uneasy silence falls between us as she looks out at the pond, my gaze on her. Unable to resist, I take her in my arms, despite the fact that anyone could be watching. They’d know with one look that I’m completely smitten with her. That thought makes me realize she may not know that.
“Janie, you know I more than enjoy you,” I say, and she looks up at me, surprise swirling in those stunning eyes. “Like, my day is shit until I see you.”
“Really?”
“Scout’s honor,” I say, holding up two fingers.
She gives me a look. “You were a Boy Scout?”
I pause and fight the laughter bubbling in my chest. “I have a great comeback, but it’s highly inappropriate.”
Austen’s brows come in, and she deadpans, “And that’s stopped you, when?”
I point to her. “You’re right,” I say, nodding. “I wasn’t a Boy Scout, but I’ve eaten a brownie or two.”
Her face doesn’t even change; she looks bored. “That is disgusting.”
I snort. “But funny.” Her lips twitch. “Just let it happen, Janie. I see your lips trying to smile.”
She can’t hold it back anymore, and soon, she is snickering.
I grin at her, enjoying how she looks when she laughs. “But for real, I enjoy you—a lot.”
Her eyes darken as she looks away, drawing in a deep breath. “Which is so bad because we live together.”
“Eh, some would disagree.”
She side-eyes me. “Why is that?”
I shrug. “Easy access, privacy.”
Plus, we already know what it’s like to live together, I think, but I refuse to say that out loud.
Her cheeks flush as she works her bottom lip between her teeth. “I need to be honest with you,” she says, but she doesn’t look at me, her gaze trained on the pond. “And it won’t be easy for me.”
“Austen…” I murmur before I reach out, taking her jaw in my hand. Her lips part and her eyes widen. “I need to look into your eyes, because nothing should be hard for you to be honest with me about.”
My words have my heart skipping in my chest, and I don’t know what’s fluttering in my gut, but man, it’s a weird feeling.
I feel her swallow, her eyes burning into mine. “Do you remember when I said I wanted to experience things with you?”
“I do.” I assumed she meant like relationship shit, and I mean, I’m down. Right? Shit, why is Shelli in my fucking head? Our earlier conversation comes at me hard, and I knock it out of my mind. I refuse to feel anything but what Austen is making me feel. Which is fucking good.
“I haven’t experienced anything.”
I bring in my brows. “I mean, I’m not the best at relationships, bu—”
“No, I mean, anything,” she says, a little break in her voice. I can see that she is struggling, and I’m completely lost.
“Anything?”
“Well, not anything I’ve desired.”
I blink. “I need you to be direct, because I’m confused.”
Her lips quirk, but it’s so fast, I almost think I didn’t see it. I can see the wheels working in her head as she searches for the words she needs.