Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 101205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
“My mother is keen to see you again,” he said, and that made me tingle a proud little tingle in my stomach.
“I’m pretty keen to see her again too.”
“Guess that’s the day sorted.” He laughed that easy laugh again. “She doesn’t usually stop when she starts. You’ll know her entire life history by the time she’s finished with you, and she’ll know yours.”
And yours, I hope, I thought, I hope I’ll know yours.
There was so much unspoken and unknown about the man in front of me. I was still paddling in the dark pool of him, so deep I was still just a tiny splash on the surface, knowing in my heart that the water went down one hell of a depth.
His eyes were fixed on mine, brooding like usual. “Please bear in mind that this is unusual for her. I’m sure you’ll see some enthusiasm.”
“Unusual to have visitors, you mean?”
“Unusual for me to have visitors,” he said.
I nodded, and I could feel my cheeks pinking, because I liked that. I liked that this was different.
I hadn’t even checked my phone, but I didn’t want to. My parents would think I was with Liam and they were the only ones who would really think about it, and I didn’t want to burst the bubble here by bringing in the world outside. It could stay there. I didn’t want anything but this space, and to stay here as long as possible.
“I’m glad I’m a visitor,” I said, and he nodded.
“I’m pretty damn glad you’re a visitor too,” he replied. “It’s not quite the weekend I was planning, but it’s a pleasant surprise.”
Weekend.
I noticed he said weekend.
Fuck yes, universe!
He tipped his head behind him. “Head up to see her whenever you want. I have some emails that need answering as a distraction.”
“I’d better shower first,” I said, and he laughed.
“Use my toothbrush and all that jazz.” His eyes were sparkling for a moment, and they reminded me of his mother’s upstairs. I hadn’t noticed that before – the similarity.
“I’ll use your toothbrush and all that jazz,” I said, and it was nicely awkward standing there, fingers twisting in front of me even though I was doing my best not to look nervous.
I made a move for it on quick feet, but he stopped me as I passed him in the doorway, his hand nicely strong on my wrist.
“I mean it, Chloe,” he said. “I’m glad you’re a visitor.”
“I mean it too,” I replied, and his stare took me back to the night before. That power and strength and fire. “I’m really glad I’m here.”
I wouldn’t have pulled away from him if he hadn’t squeezed my wrist and then dropped it. I would never have wanted to pull away from him in my life, and I knew it. Crazy, but true. This was more than any sense in my head, or any logic, or anything more than that burn of something more. Something beyond words, that you feel so deep it goes right through you. Like that tingly lurch you get in romance novels when they finally touch, or when one of them first tells the other that they love them. Only this was real life. This was real now.
“Make sure Mum doesn’t grab you before you make it to the bathroom, or you’ll never get there,” he said with a smirk. “It’s past her bedroom on the opposite side.”
I wanted to kiss him, but I was too jumpy. I wanted to wait to see if he kissed me, but I was too jumpy for that, too. Instead I was off on skittish legs, as usual, bounding up the stairs like I was on a mission, and he was watching me every step, calm as rock.
I showered in his bathroom. I used his toilet, and his lovely quilted toilet roll, and one of his nice towels from the rack. I looked in his mirror, and looked for his toothbrush, but it wasn’t on the counter top, not like in my place. No. It was in the cabinet to the side of the mirror, nicely positioned along with his toothpaste. And other stuff. Creams and soaps and other goodies I shouldn’t be nosey with, but couldn’t stop. It was only when I took the toothpaste out that something caught my attention. Something right at the back.
A huge bottle of insulin. The kind that we restocked up on in the pharma room at work.
I didn’t know he was a diabetic. I hadn’t seen any signs of it. Still, I hadn’t seen many signs of many things about that man.
I used his toothbrush and then his soap to clear my face of any makeup dregs, and then I tackled the task of getting dressed back up in my evening dress.
His mum did a whistle as I stepped inside her room, staring me up and down with a huge grin.