Total pages in book: 155
Estimated words: 145634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 728(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 485(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 728(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 485(@300wpm)
“No,” I say, and my answer is flat. I know what I want; I’m not accepting anything less. Her hesitation sends a prick of uncertainty down my spine, but I ignore it. I know she feels what’s between us just like I do. I know she does. It’s always been between us. After the four years she was mine the three years without her has simply been a waiting game. That’s all it was. Waiting. I’m done waiting now.
Sophie’s smile fades to nothing and she shifts nervously in her seat before glancing at the door.
“Is that so shocking? That I want to see you again?” I ask her, feeling a wretched twisting in my chest. The frustration is more than a hint.
Her eyes reach mine instantly. “That you would say it? …Yes.”
Anger simmers as she keeps her blue eyes on mine, prying and searching for God knows what.
“I found myself when I left.” A deep breath leaves her as she sighs and picks up her mug to take a sip. “I like the person I am now, and I don’t want to go back to what I was.”
“Who you were? What was wrong with who you were? You’ve always been perfect.” She softens at my last sentence, visibly so.
“I didn’t have a voice.” She stares into her mug as she tells me, “I didn’t know what I wanted in life.”
“What do you want now?”
“I don’t want to make the same mistakes as we did before… I know that much.”
“I understand. I made mistakes in the past; I know that now. I don’t want to fight with you. I don’t want to lose you, either.” I offer my hand to her, palm up on the small table, and just like I knew she would, Sophie sets her small hand in mine before tracing the lines on my palm with the tips of her fingers. “It doesn’t have to be one or the other. I just want to see you again.”
“I don’t know,” Sophie whispers, looking lost and I hate it. I hate it all. I pull my hand away, feeling the chill in the air against my palm. It pairs perfectly with the hollowness in my chest. “You’ll ruin me,” she answers with a dullness in her voice, a loss of fight yet complete with conviction.
Ruin her. Yes. That’s exactly what I want to do. No other man is right for her but me.
Hearing those words on her lips unleashes a part of me I don’t want to hide from her. It’s impulsive, but I grab the leg of her chair and drag both it and her closer to me. She squeals, and with the addictive sound she grins broadly. The heat, the tension, it all skyrockets as she bites down on her lower lip and that beautiful blush I love to see creeps onto her cheeks.
“People will see.” She barely gets out the excuse before I tell her, “Let them.”
“Madox,” she says and her whisper is a hushed admonishment, but her smile stays in place as she peeks up at me and then at my lips before giving me a small chaste kiss.
When she breaks away, I wait for her eyes to reach mine and kiss her deeper, cupping her jaw and kissing her the way she deserves to be kissed.
I kiss her until she’s breathless, letting the tip of my nose brush against hers and then kissing her once more, quick and soft, to seal the kiss.
“The way you kiss me…” She doesn’t finish her sentence, keeping her eyes closed the entire time.
The need to take her right now creeps up on me as she glances at her phone, and it buzzes in her hand until she clicks the screen.
With a reluctant sigh, she tells me, “I have to go; my boss wants to meet for brunch before work tomorrow.”
“I want to see you tonight.” I leave no room for negotiation in my tone. “We have a lot to talk about. A lot to catch up on.”
Picking up her purse, she brushes her hair behind her ear and settles her phone into place, leaving me waiting.
Just as I’m ready to tell her I’ve waited long enough, she speaks softly. “I’m scared it’s going to be just like how it was before.”
She’ll never know how much it fucking kills me to hear her say that. Every day since she left, I’ve coveted what we had.
“I don’t want to be some weak girl hanging on the arm of a man who’s perfectly fine if she walks away,” she says, and her voice cracks. “I don’t want to fight, Madox.”
“We don’t have any reason to fight. I’m just taking you to dinner.” I feel my throat tighten as I swallow, and the old man from earlier leaves with a to-go cup of coffee in his hand, making the bells jangle again. He steals her attention from me, but when I get it back, she offers me a kind smile.