Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 96586 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96586 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
“Slow down,” he swiftly insists upon his arrival in front of me. “I said I’m looking. And that’s all it is right now, Pres. Looking. The shit is expensive and time-consuming and just fucking stress I don’t know that I need or can even fucking handle at the moment. Besides, I don’t even know if any place would want me.”
His defensiveness has me doing the one thing I’ve always tried to do.
Protect him.
Even from himself.
“Ry,” the firmness in my voice lifts his eyebrows, “look at the schools with an open mind. You find one that you want or feels good to you or that you think you can handle, and we’ll figure out everything else together. Okay?”
He sheepishly nods.
“You going alone or taking Noah?”
“Law.”
His sponsor.
And having him openly share that with me as well as exercises or assignments he’s given to work on fills me with awe.
Awe that he trusts me.
Awe that I can trust him not to revert back to his old ways.
Awe that I can believe him when he says he’s really trying.
Not that I didn’t believe him.
It’s just nice to have proof of it in actions.
“Text me if you find anything worth a second look.”
His palms land on the arms of my chair. “That doesn’t sound like asking.”
“That’s because I’m telling.”
He lightly chuckles at the same time leans in closer. “You really are on your boss shit when you’re at work.”
“Completely.”
His open mouth drops to mine and his tongue eagerly inside. While I’m sure the original intent was just to execute one stroke, one stroke turns into three. And a nape grab from him. And then three more until I’m softly moaning in surrender, proving to him that I may be the boss in the office, but he’s definitely the boss in the bedroom.
Ry slowly pulls away to cockily state, “That’s what I really came for.”
I push him backwards on a giggle right as Katherine questions, “You drove all the way over here just for a kiss?”
“I did,” he answers, eyes still lingering in mine. “And I’d happily fucking do it again.”
She poorly buries her swoon behind more lettuce.
“Finish your salad, baby,” Ry lovingly insists prior to tapping a dark mark on my arm. “And take your meds when you get home. That’s a new bruise, and my ass didn’t put it there.”
Guilt is flashed in the form of a small cringe.
Okay, I’m not always the best about taking my medication to help my condition, but I’ve gotten better!
Sort of.
Ugh.
It comes in waves.
Although, Ry is particularly good about making sure that my iron supplement, my birth control pill, and my vitamins are taken daily, especially when he’s around.
I like how he cares for me even when I get too busy to care for myself.
“I’ll take it when I get home,” I quietly promise.
“Pres.”
“Swear.”
Ry offers me a crooked grin and begins to back out of the room when Katherine states to him, “We should all have dinner together sometime.”
Panic widens my stare.
No.
No. No. No.
This.
This was enough for now.
We do not need a dedicated two hours where she can grill him or turn him into a case study without his consent.
Mine is enough.
“I’d like that,” Ry warmly replies while I quietly hope that’s the end of the conversation.
“Let’s get it on the books. We can all go have steak or sushi.”
Another wave of anxiety washes over me knowing the internal toll it’s probably wreaking on my boyfriend to just consider paying for something that costly.
And he’s gonna fucking insist because pride it seems is his Achilles heel.
My mouth twitches to speak when he beats me to it. “Give me a date, and I’ll add it to my calendar now.”
Now?!
Wait.
How are things moving this fast?
Katherine reaches over to grab her own phone right as I prepare to interrupt again. “You keep a calendar?”
“I have to.” Ry removes his device from his pocket. “Between support groups, piss tests, blood tests, family dinners, Pres’s work schedule and mine, it’s the only way I don’t fuck everything up.”
Rather than comment on that, I gingerly inform, “You can cuss in my office behind the closed door, Ry, but outside of this room, the rule is ‘tiny ears, tiny words’, okay?”
“Sorry, Principal Morrison.” A smile is twitched on his lips. “I’ll be more careful.”
The mirth-filled glare he’s twitched receives a low chuckle.
“Can you teach my husband how to be more responsible?” Katherine pokes, thumb swiping her screen. “He has a calendar, an assistant, and alarm reminder yet still somehow forgets Angel has a playdate with the Fitzgeralds. A playdate I just want everyone in this room to know isn’t really a playdate so much as an interview for an arranged marriage I know Walter and Sylvie are planning for Lucius like he’s a member of the royal lineage rather than just another socialite created to keep the money flowing in the family.” She shoots me a playfully scolding stare. “Do not accept their application.”