Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 67000 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67000 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Speaking of the dating app, I signed into it on his phone so he would be able to read everything that I got as I got it.
After I was done with that, I took a selfie and replaced his generic background with a selfie of me blowing a kiss.
I then moved his home screen around because it wasn’t very aesthetically pleasing.
Once I was bored of it, I put his phone down and watched the poor old lady try to walk a straight line using her walker.
The rest of the night was just as exciting as the beginning, and by the time we arrived home, I was beat.
It was two in the morning, and sadly, the last thing on my mind was doing anything besides falling face first in bed.
Which, of course, I couldn’t do because I had to make up the pull-out bed.
In the end, I decided to say ‘fuck it’ and sleep in the chair itself.
I was already dead to the world when Hot Cop came to bed.
But I didn’t stay that way.
I have a rhythm I wipe my ass to.
—Things you should not say on a first date
QUAID
The woman sleepwalked.
After she dove into bed an hour ago, I decided to get all my reports done from her computer that was resting on the counter next to the sink.
Even worse, I signed in using the most generic of passwords: password123
I was so busy shaking my head at the lack of security, physical and cyber, that I didn’t notice at first when she appeared in the kitchen.
Then, when I did notice her, I was temporarily caught up on the fact that she was wearing very little.
A tiny white tank top that barely covered her belly button but showed off the most perfect set of hip bones I’d ever seen. And my God, her hips. They were just made for a man’s hands.
My hands.
She had a pair of black underwear with little dinosaurs on them covering her shapely ass, and nothing else.
Even her hair, which I’d only ever seen up, was down around her shoulders, swaying across her back as she walked woodenly to the kitchen sink.
At first, I didn’t know she was asleep.
My gaze went to her legs, which were shapely and well-toned, but also had a bit of meat to them.
I was focusing on the way they looked moving her toward the sink when she ran smack into the cabinet.
Then backed up and did it again.
She hit it so hard the third time that her knee bounced off the cabinet under the sink, causing the door to bang loudly with the force, and me to get up with a frown.
“Ellodie?” I called out, reaching for her.
She started to do the whole act again, but I caught her before she could make contact, and turned her toward me.
That’s when I saw the blankness in her eyes.
She wasn’t there.
She might appear to be awake, but I’d been trained in this kind of thing before. My brother, Atlas, was a sleepwalker. Though, walker was a loose term.
He sleep-runs.
There was a time in high school that I’d had to chase him all the way down the street because he was sprinting as fast as he could to somewhere only his sleeping mind knew.
Needless to say, I knew what to do when I realized what was going on, but only because I’d tried the whole waking Atlas thing in the middle of his sleepwalking episodes once and only once.
I’d found out the hard way that Atlas is a fighter when he’s startled. He wakes up swinging, and I’d gotten clobbered by him in the middle of the backyard when I was fifteen and he was twelve and a half.
Catching her gently by the hips and telling myself to ignore how smooth her skin was, I guided her back to bed.
She went willingly, her body snuggling deep into the chair and her nest of pillows and blankets she’d taken off of the bed.
My gaze went to the nearly bare bed, with only a sheet and a pillow left, and my mouth quirked.
I’d have to get more pillows and blankets for the spare bedroom, or she’d hate it.
There were only two pillows and a knit blanket on it with the cheapest set of sheets I could find at the store.
Since it’d only housed my brothers on the rare occasion they slept over, I saw no reason to splurge.
But now, thinking about her soft skin against those scratchy sheets, I suddenly wanted to get her the finest of thread counts.
Heading back to the kitchen and her computer, I got three more reports done before I decided to call it a night.
I had tomorrow—no, today—off, but I knew I had things that needed to be done.
And one of those things currently was snuggled deep into that amazingly comfortable looking chair and a half, snoring loudly enough that I could hear it when I came down the hall.