Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 85711 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85711 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 429(@200wpm)___ 343(@250wpm)___ 286(@300wpm)
“I just got to my hotel room, and I took off my shirt. I was going to get into my sweats, but I wanted to call you first.” He looks suddenly shy. “Now, why are you crying?”
“It’s…” I look at him and then look out the window, trying to get the courage to say what is on my mind. “It’s just my body is changing, and I don’t know.” I shrug, ignoring the sting of new tears that threaten to come. “I didn’t feel.” I stop myself before I say sexy. “Attractive.”
“Jillian.” He says my name, and I look up at him. “You are hands down the most beautiful woman in the world.” His words hit me in the chest. “You are the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen.”
“You’re just saying that.” I shake my head, not sure I want to hear what he has to say. “Because I’m carrying your child.”
“No,” he snaps at me. “I’m not just saying that. Do you know what I did today?” I just look at him. “I left your place, and all I could think about was kissing you. All I wanted to do was kiss you.” He smiles shyly. “I mean, I wanted to do more than kiss you. I wanted to lay you on the bed and have my way with you. It’s sick and twisted, and I don’t even know if your head is in the same place mine is.” He just keeps talking without giving me a chance to say anything. It’s almost like a dam that has been broken, and he can’t stop what is coming out.
I listen to his words, and I’m shocked. “What?”
“Yeah,” he says. “I don’t even know if you want me like that.”
“Well…” I take a big inhale. “I do,” I admit. “I want you to kiss me.” I leave out the part that I was so aroused thinking of him last night that I had to take my vibrator out. “I’ve waited for you to kiss me since the last time.” I might as well just give it to him all since I’ve already said this much. “I just figured you didn’t find me attractive.”
“What. The. Fuck?” he hisses out. “I was trying not to be, you know…” He just looks at me. “Annoying and in your face.”
I’m about to say something when there is a knock on the door. “That’s for you,” he says with a smile. “We are going to table this conversation for when you open the door.”
I walk over to the door and open it. “Jillian?” The man says my name, handing me a bouquet of white roses and a paper bag. “Have a nice day,” he says, and I close the door.
“What is this?” I can’t help the smile that fills my face. “You sent me flowers,” I say excitedly. “I’ve never gotten flowers before.” I prop the phone up on the counter. “Ever.” I put my face into the phone. The sound of his laughter fills the room as I open the brown bag, seeing the containers stacked all the way to the top. “What is this?” I say, taking one out.
“It’s chicken and steak with sides.” His eyes light up.
“Oh my goodness.” I open the first container, seeing the chicken and then the steak, and there are two different potatoes, baked and mashed. “What did you do all this for?”
“Well, I can’t be there to take care of you,” he says softly, turning on his side, and I wonder if he got to sleep in the plane. “So I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
I shake my head. “That was very thoughtful of you,” I say, swallowing the lump in my throat. “And the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done.”
For the rest of the conversation, we play twenty questions, and I spend the whole time with the biggest smile on my face.
When I wake up the next morning, the first thing I see is a text from him. Sent to me at midnight my time. Which was ten p.m. his time.
Michael: Good morning, beautiful. I hope you have a great day. Call me on your lunch break.
I get out of bed, get ready, and head to work. When I walk into my class, there is a paper bag on the middle of my desk with a pink ribbon tying the handles together and my name in black marker across it. I pull the ribbon and look inside. A white envelope lies on top of two containers. One of fruit and another of yogurt and granola.
Counting down the days until I can eat breakfast with you again.
Michael
I shake my head and snap a picture of it and send it to Julia, who calls me right away. “This guy…” she says. “He’s good.”
Laughing, I sit in the chair, and my fingers go over the words on the white card. “It was on my desk.” I try not to smile too much, but I can’t help it.