Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 164705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 824(@200wpm)___ 659(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 824(@200wpm)___ 659(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
Briar Rose pouted and flipped the empty shot glass upside down, her chin propped on her fist. “I’m beginning to see there’s not much to celebrate, anyway.”
“Cuddlebug …”
She ripped her gaze from the glass, hanging her purple-speckled blue eyes on my face. A screen of tears covered them. “It’s true, though, isn’t it?”
My heart broke into a trillion fucking pieces. “It’s not.”
“I’m grateful to be going to Harvard with you. Grateful that, from now on, I’ll spend holidays with your family. And I am so freaking grateful for your devotion, your dedication, your love … but you’re just one person. You’re an island,
Ollie. My island. My happiness, or lack of, is solely dependent on you. If you vanish from my life—”
“I’ll never vanish from your life.”
She smiled sadly. “If you vanish from my life, you take away the best parts with you. In fact, you take away the only parts I care to lose. You’re the best and worst thing that’s ever happened to me, Oliver von Bismarck. If I lose you, I have nothing left.”
There was nothing I could say to that. Her feelings were valid, and I couldn’t blame her for them. Her parents had thrown her in an all-girls school, where she didn’t fit in, thereby eliminating any chance for her to make friends. They never spent time with her, never introduced her to her relatives, and never bothered to fall in love with her. She was completely alone.
With the exception of me.
All I had to do was make sure I was enough.
I rummaged in my pocket for my wallet, threw a few bills on the bar top, and shoulder-tackled her midriff, carrying her out of the bar over my shoulder. Cuddlebug didn’t even protest. She might have been half-comatose at this point.
I barreled out of the bar along Rue de Rivoli, my girlfriend still flung over my shoulder.
“Hmm.” She grazed her fingernails over my back in a way that made my dick hard and my skin tingle. “I thought Rivoli was Italian, not French.”
I took a deep breath. “You mean ravioli, baby.”
“I want ravioli. You’re right. I need some carbs in me.”
You need some me in you.
And here came problem number two.
We hadn’t done the deed yet.
Well, not a problem per se. Our shared virginal status probably should’ve bothered me more than it did, but I couldn’t give any fucks. (All puns intended, of course.)
Up until now, it never felt right. Not when Briar Rose and I only saw each other eight weeks out of the year. I figured it would happen when she joined me at Harvard. There’d be dates. Movie nights. An unlimited amount of time to build that everyday intimacy. I was fine being a nineteen-year-old virgin, but twenty-year-old virgin was stretching it.
“God, your ass is so delicious.” Cuddlebug hiccuped, massaging my butt cheeks through my jeans in the middle of the busy street. “I want to bite it.”
“Compliments to the Smith machine. I never miss a leg day.” I tried to keep my tone light, searching for a restaurant that wasn’t too packed. It was summer in Paris, though. Everything was busy.
Another hiccup. “I think we should have sex.”
“I think you should eat, drink a gallon of water, and take an eight-hour nap,” I countered.
No way in hell would I have sex with this woman when she was in a vulnerable state.
“I know exactly what I’m doing, Oliver. Even if we break up tomorrow morning, you are still the only person I’d want to give my virginity to.”
“As happy as I am to hear this, Cuddlebug, no one is doing anything until you feel better.”
I spotted a small café at the end of the block and hurried toward it. We were drawing curious looks, not to mention a few scandalized glares from women who did not appreciate my parading a young woman in a minidress around like a prize.
The buttery scent of croissants assaulted my nostrils the second we walked into the café. (Well, I walked. She rode.) I claimed the furthest seat in the corner and ordered everything on the menu. Soups, sandwiches, desserts, smoothies, and coffee. Plus, two bottles of sparkling water. Then, I watched my girlfriend wolf down most of the table’s contents.
“Slow down now, Cuddlebug.” I stroked her hair as she ate like a woman who had just been rescued from living in the wilderness for six years. “The food isn’t running anywhere.”
“I’m not even that hungry.” She set her fork down and tipped her head back, closing her eyes. “I’m just trying to fill a hole inside of me. But no amount of food is going to do that.”
“You’re right. Food is not going to fill that hole.” I gulped, hating that the second we talked about holes and filling them, my dick totally thought about a different hole. “But good friends will. A new family you’ll start one day. You have so much more to live for. Your life has barely begun. And I can’t wait to take part in it.”