Total pages in book: 187
Estimated words: 188957 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 945(@200wpm)___ 756(@250wpm)___ 630(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 188957 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 945(@200wpm)___ 756(@250wpm)___ 630(@300wpm)
Almost.
But not quite.
Because as I said, he’s there.
On the sidelines, with all the other guys, watching over me, guarding me, making me feel all safe and warm and cozy.
“He’s watching you, you know,” Callie whispers in my ear as we sit on the couch in the living room.
I swallow. “I know.”
“I think he’s got it bad for you,” she says.
My heart jumps. “I ruined his meeting.”
She smiles. “I don’t think he cares about his meeting.”
“I’m just —”
She stops me by giving me a tight hug and a sweet kiss on my cheek. “Just have a little faith, okay?”
A little faith. A little hope.
I don’t know if I have that. I don’t know if I even want that, see.
Because before Jimmy ruined everything, I was ready to run after Alaric. I was ready to beg him and plead with him to take me back. To let me love him. Even though his work, his responsibilities, are still going to be his priority.
And I still stand by it.
Because I can’t not love him. I can’t not be with him. I can’t not try to make him happy and ease his frustrations.
He needs me, okay?
He needs to be loved. After everything that he’s gone through, that’s the least my Alaric deserves. And it’s okay if he can’t love me back. I have other people who love me, as evidenced by their presence here, so I’m going to be okay.
Which means that I’ve decided that I’m going to make my case.
I’ve thought about it through all the whirlwind of things, and my plan is to plead with him. To make my case somehow and convince him that having me in his life is a good idea.
I just hope Jimmy and his stupid kidnapping plot haven’t ruined everything.
So yeah, I’m determined.
Only I didn’t know how exhausted I was, because after everything winds down and my girls and their guys go back home, I can barely keep my eyes open. I can barely even sit, I think.
And the last thing I remember before sleep takes over is my world tilting slightly and a pair of strong arms balancing me.
Oh, and a thick smell of leather and cigar smoke.
“Alaric!”
I spring up on the bed, my heart racing, my throat aching with all the emotions.
It’s dark and scary but immediately, I’m enveloped in heat.
I’m enveloped by the strong pair of arms that I know — I remember — brought me up to my room. They smell of leather and cigar smoke, and they make me feel safe.
So safe and guarded that all these rioting emotions in me calm down.
All this churning stops and I wind my arms around his neck, clenching my eyes shut in relief. In gratitude, in an immense wave of love.
He’s here.
He’s got me.
And God, I love him so much.
I love him like I’ve never ever loved anyone before. Like I will never ever love anyone after.
Meanwhile, he’s doing the same thing, I think.
He’s holding on to me in relief. I can feel it radiating out of him in waves too. I can feel it in the big movements of his chest, in the tightness of his grip around me. In the way he brings me up on his lap and rocks me gently.
He’s relieved that he was here to calm me down after my nightmare; I can tell.
He’s relieved that I’m in his arms now.
“Hey,” he whispers, turning on the lamp on my nightstand. “It’s okay. You’re okay. You’re safe.”
I rub my nose in the hollow of his throat. “I-I had the same nightmare. I couldn’t… couldn’t find you. I…”
He rubs his jaw in my hair, tightening his hold around me. “Shh, it’s okay. It’s okay, baby. I’m here, okay? I’m here. I’m never going anywhere.”
I clutch his shirt then. At his never.
It sounded like a promise and never is a long time.
Never is forever.
God, please, please let it be forever. Please let me be here forever.
And then I can’t stop myself. I have to tell him. I have to beg him.
“I’m sorry,” I blurt out, looking up. “I’m so sorry, Alaric. I’m —”
He glances down at me, his eyes appearing so dark and liquid. “Poe, no. You don’t have to apologize. You don’t —”
I grab the collar of his shirt. “No, I do have to. I have to. Because you missed it. You missed your meeting, didn’t you? And I —”
Something harsh goes through his features, his momentary relief evaporating.
Something really painful I think, because he winces and steals my words.
He flinches and grabs my face like I’m grabbing his collar, urgently, frantically, as he whispers harshly, “Fuck the meeting, okay? Fucking fuck it. I don’t —”
I stop him again though.
It’s like we have so many emotions inside of us that we can’t contain them and so we’re speaking over each other.
We’re pulling and tugging on things, his collar, my jaw, and devouring each other’s sentences.