Total pages in book: 156
Estimated words: 157140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
“Cole, can you sit?” I ask softly. “Before you go off on yourself, Troy told me a few things you should know.”
He motions to the sofa and we sit together.
Between quick sips of coffee that ground him, I relay everything the monster told me about what truly happened to Aster Lancaster.
His face works through every emotion imaginable.
Anger.
Sadness.
Betrayal.
Disgust.
Relief.
Finally sweet relief.
But I also see something else every time he looks at me. And I can’t let myself get too wrapped up in it—too hopeful—or I’ll never finish my story.
It’s a little surreal, like I’m describing a movie rather than a nightmare that actually happened.
“Fucking shit,” he whispers when it’s over, sinking back against the couch. “Ever since he showed his real face, I knew it was something like that. But to have all the missing pieces, thanks to you...”
He shakes his head fiercely, reaching out, urging me closer.
“It’s the least I can do, giving you some closure,” I whisper.
“I needed it, Eliza, but there’s something else I need a whole hell of a lot more than the gritty details about that backstabbing cock.” He inhales sharply.
My eyes search his. My blood runs so hot my goosebumps feel like tiny mosquito bites.
“What?” I whisper.
“I’m looking at it now. You, woman, were always my missing piece. Always the right shape to fill the gaping hole in my life. I’m just sorry as hell it took me so long to come to my senses,” he rasps.
His soulful gaze is determined to burn me down.
With shaking fingers, I cup his face with my good hand.
“Don’t. Don’t apologize, Cole. I’m only here—alive—thanks to you. You can’t blame yourself for what Troy did.”
He leans closer, his breath hot against my lips.
“I blame myself for a lot, Eliza. Not making sure he got put away after killing Aster. Not noticing his peculiarities. I hate myself for the bullshit I said to you. If I’d thought harder about my words, he never would’ve hurt you. You wouldn’t have been in his car that night. There’s no way to slice this where it isn’t my fault. You almost got killed because of me, and I’m so fucking sorry. About as sorry as I am for ever hesitating to say how much I love you.”
Oh my God.
Butterflies swarm my stomach in force.
It’s hard to look at the fraught honesty etched on his face without going to pieces.
“Cole, stop. You weren’t too late. You...you saved me,” I whisper roughly, tracing my finger down his jawline. “And I know you said some things you shouldn’t have. So did I. You were worried about Destiny and knowing what Troy did now, you were right to be. You don’t have to tell me how much you love me. You showed it. You risked your life...for mine.” I bite my bottom lip, hot emotion scratching my throat. “By the way, you can’t do that ever again. You know that, right?”
“Like hell.” He blinks at me and his brow furrows. “Why not? I can’t live without you, Eliza.”
“Because you can’t leave Destiny an orphan, and I love you a lot, too, crazyman.”
His arms lock around my waist and his lips brush mine.
“Goddamn. You realize it’s taking every ounce of self-control I have not to kiss you right now?”
“Do it.”
“But—”
“Do it,” I whisper again, grabbing his shirt.
His hands sweep lower, stopping on my butt for a delicious squeeze before skimming up again.
Then he takes my face in both of his huge, worn hands. His lips claim mine with a low, sweeping growl like a desert storm announcing rain to the starving earth.
I gasp.
I tremble.
I fall for him a hundred more ways as our mouths go to war, desperate and hungry and so eager to be one.
When he tears himself away, he stands, taking my hand. “On my lap. Now. I’m afraid I’ll fucking break you.”
“I’m not that brittle,” I promise.
“No, but with that arm...”
I laugh.
He pulls me down on him in one movement. My hips love the heat of his thighs. Almost as much as my face appreciates the roughness of his hands, his stubble, every time his skin rakes mine.
“I don’t deserve you,” he snarls in my ear. “I can never make up for the torture I’ve put you through.”
My heart sinks for a moment.
“This better not be the ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ speech?”
He shakes his head, his other arm holding me tighter.
“No. I’d have to be a hell of a lot dumber to let you go again. This is the ‘I’m afraid I’ll hurt you again, or you’ll realize I don’t deserve you and run away speech.’”
I purse my lips. “That’s so not happening.”
“Yeah? Why are you so sure?”
“You know why.”
He smiles. “I have a good idea, but I want to hear you say it.”
I lay my head on his shoulder, turning so my lips brush his earlobe. “Because I’m madly in love with you, Cole Lancaster. I could probably live without you, but it would suck too much to try.”