Total pages in book: 215
Estimated words: 199344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 997(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 199344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 997(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
Mom is horrified as she pulls out of my arms and swats my chest, but the look in her eyes tells me she’s never been so happy. “You wouldn’t dare,” she tells me. “You’ve always loved that pure innocence about her.”
She’s right, I have.
She lets out a heavy breath before moving out of Linc’s room and closing the door behind her. “Come and sit down,” she says in a serious tone.
My brows furrow, and I follow her into the kitchen where she pulls out one of the stools at the island counter and demands I take a seat. I do so without hesitation, knowing I’d have hell to pay if I didn’t. After all, you don’t raise two boys without learning how to keep them in line.
Glancing up at Mom, I watch as she makes her way around the other side of the counter before pressing her hands against the marble and fixing me with a heavy stare. “I haven’t been the best mother to you over the past few years, and while I’m under no impression that you’re as innocent as I hope you to be, I think it’s time that we have this talk.”
My face scrunches, confusion quickly pulsing through my body. “What the hell are you talking about?”
She blows her cheeks out as though she’s never been so uncomfortable in her life. “When you’re with Zoey, you’re going to start having some urges—”
“Ugh, Mom,” I say, cutting her off, horror filling my veins. “Tell me you’re not about to have the sex talk with me. You should know I’m well aware of how it works.”
“Shut up and listen,” she tells me. “This is important. Zoey isn’t like the girls you’re used to dealing with. She’s not going to throw herself at you and ask for the things you’re all too happy to give. She’s a good girl, Noah, and I want to make sure that when that time comes, you’re mature enough to know the difference between wanting something and being ready for it.”
“I . . . I would never hurt her,” I say, reading exactly where she’s coming from.
“I know you would like to be the man she needs, but the truth is, while I know you’ve never hurt her physically, you have already shattered her heart once before and left her in a lot of pain. For women, sex is . . . very different than what it is for men. It’s an emotional connection. So, I just want to make sure that when you cross that line with her, you’re doing it for the right reasons.”
I nod, hearing every word, but honestly, when I think of being with Zoey, while I could only imagine how good being with her physically would be, it’s her heart I’m after. Anything more she’s willing to offer is a bonus that I will protect with my life. “I don’t want to break her like that again,” I tell her, feeling more vulnerable than I ever have before. “I hate myself for what I’ve put her through.”
“I know you do, honey,” she says. “But this is your chance to make amends, earn her forgiveness, and show her that she can trust you again.”
Mom turns and reaches for the top cupboard, grabbing a bottle of champagne as though this is some huge celebration, and as she looks back at me, her eyes are sparkling with undeniable happiness. “Oh, Noah,” she sighs, popping the cork. “You know how much that girl means to me, so if you’re going to do this, then you’re going to treat her like a queen. She’s already been through so much in her short life. She deserves nothing less.”
“I got it handled,” I tell her, saying each word like a solemn vow.
She finds a glass and fills it with a few ice cubes, muttering something about wishing she had some warning so that she could have chilled her champagne first. “You know,” she says, pausing and glancing up at me. “Why wait until Friday? It’s still early. Perhaps we could make dinner at Erica’s tonight.”
“Don’t jump the gun,” I tell her, flying up to halt her movements as she searches for her phone. If we’re not careful, Erica and Mom will have a whole wedding ceremony planned out. “Nothing’s official just yet. We’re just taking it slow, I guess. She’s still hurting after everything I did, and I have a lot to make up for before she can allow me back in like that.”
“Okay,” she says, a hint of disappointment in her voice as she gets back to filling her glass. “I suppose that’s fair enough.”
She takes a sip, and as I move around the kitchen trying to figure out what the hell we’re going to make for dinner, I catch Mom watching me a little too closely. “You’re staring,” I mutter into the fridge.