Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 82163 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82163 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
“If anything, I owe Cooper a huge thank you,” I say, getting up from the bath and pulling up the latch to let the water drain out. I step out, grabbing the plush white robe. Slipping my arms into it, I tie the sash in a knot. I walk over and turn on the soft light before I walk back over and look at myself in the mirror. I look into my eyes to see if I look different, but nothing is there. I touch my face, and I can’t help but snort out that I thought for sure it would be written on my face I had sex. I thought for sure you would be able to tell. I turn off the light as I walk out and slide into bed.
My head hits the pillow, and all I can do is turn to look out the window. The soft light from the moon comes into my room as I stare ahead, the night now on repeat in my head. The way he kissed me. The way I kissed him back. The way he buried his face between my legs. The way he looked over me. The way his blue eyes got dark right before he came in me. The way he said my name over and over again. I don’t even feel the tear that escapes my eye until I’m lying on a soaked pillowcase.
I hear the front door open and close. Looking at my door, I see Gabriella poke her head in. “I’m back,” she whispers, and instead of answering, I just pretend I’m sleeping. She quietly closes the door shut. I feel like I’m hungover when I close my eyes and then when I open them again, I stare again into the darkness. Finally, when I see the sky turn from a black to a dusty gray, I fall asleep.
Only when I feel the heat on my face do my eyes flutter open. They feel extra heavy today and I can only imagine how horrible I look. I don’t have a chance to check when the door opens and Gabriella stands there in a long dress. “Are you not coming to our last breakfast?”
“No,” I reply, sitting up and avoiding her eyes.
“You look like shit.” She folds her arms over her chest. “Are you sick?”
Pretend you’re sick, my head screams at me. “I don’t think so,” I answer and then fake sniffle. “Maybe I caught a cold with the hot and cold.” Even though it’s a total myth and the only way you can actually catch a cold is from a virus.
“So then why aren’t you coming to breakfast?” she pushes me.
“I’m going to start packing,” I tell her, walking into the bathroom and away from her eyes.
“Do you want me to bring you back something?” she shouts from my bedroom, and I take one look at myself in the mirror and shriek.
“No, I’ll order room service,” I yell over my shoulder and hear the door slam behind her a couple of seconds later.
Turning the water on in the sink, I stick both hands under the faucet until they are full before splashing the water on my face a couple of times, then grabbing a white hand towel and dabbing the water on my face. I take another look at myself in the mirror and laugh out loud before walking over to the phone.
I sit on the bed before picking up the tan phone from the bedside table. I press zero for room service. The woman answers right away. “Good morning, Ms. Stone.”
“Good morning,” I reply to her. “Can I have a pot of coffee and also a glass of ice cubes.”
“Would you like anything to eat with that?” she asks.
“Actually, can you send me a fruit plate as well.”
“Sure thing,” the woman confirms, “that will be there within ten minutes.”
“Thank you,” I reply before I hang up the phone. Walking to the closet, I grab my suitcase.
I place it on the bed, unzipping it and letting it flop open. “I’m not avoiding him,” I tell myself as I walk over and start to grab my stuff, hanging up and bringing it back to the bed. I fold the clothes, trying not to think about the man who is probably next door doing the same thing.
I’m halfway done after five minutes and there is a knock on the door. I walk over, and when I pull open the door, I’m disappointed it’s a man with a room service cart instead of Tristan. “Good morning,” the man says smiling at me, “where would you like this?”
“I can take it from here,” I tell him, taking the cart from him and rolling it to me. “Thank you.” He nods at me before turning and walking away.
Pouring myself a cup of coffee before I grab an ice cube in my hand, I walk back into my bedroom. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I take a sip of the coffee while I ice under my eyes. I move the ice cube from one eye to the other until it’s numb and the ice has melted.