Total pages in book: 51
Estimated words: 48097 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 240(@200wpm)___ 192(@250wpm)___ 160(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48097 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 240(@200wpm)___ 192(@250wpm)___ 160(@300wpm)
Normal.
Now I could define it for myself.
Mr. D was wearing gray sweats, a black t-shirt, and was barefoot. He leaned back on the couch with a beer in his hand, his feet resting on the coffee table, and he appeared so different than the principal at Black Mountain Academy.
And I was out of that damn uniform and in my own sweats. My mother would have been appalled that I sat with a man in attire anything less than put together. Sweats were a dirty word in our house. But again, my life was not normal.
Not like right now.
“Do you need another beer?” Mr. D asked as he stood up to get another one for himself.
“I’m good, thanks,” I said, raising my half-full beer bottle. I sipped on it, not really liking the taste but wanting to do something as simple as sit on the couch watching a movie while drinking a beer.
And that’s what we did. Sat, drank beer, and watched a movie.
Two normal people.
Doing a normal activity.
And I couldn’t be happier.
“I don’t know the last time I sat on a couch and binged movies,” he said. He turned to face me and smiled. We were close enough that our legs touched, and I found myself focusing on that rather than the plot of the movie. “It’s nice. I know this isn’t exactly how you planned to spend your night, but I’m happy you’re here.”
“I haven’t had a night like this before either,” I admitted. “It’s the best Friday night I can remember having.” And it was.
Cozy, warm, in excellent company, and relaxed.
When the movie was over, Mr. D stood up and went to get the blankets from the spare room. When he walked out with them, I stopped him from speaking because I knew he’d offer to sleep on the couch again.
“I slept perfectly last night,” I said. “I like your couch. It was the best sleep I’ve had in a long time.”
He shook his head with a smirk. “My mother is rolling over in her grave right now.” But he put the blankets and pillow on the couch and walked to the kitchen, turned the water on and got me a glass of water like he had last night.
Mr. D was going to tuck me in again.
I liked it.
“Are you tired, or do you need me to sit with you for bit?” he asked.
“I’m fine. I know you’re tired.” I gave him a big smile. “I’m good. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Okay then, goodnight.” He left my side, turned off the lights and left the room.
Would I have liked for him to stay?
Yes, very much so.
I had no doubt in my mind now.
Mr. D was freakin’ hot and was the first guy to ever seem to actually care about me. He was there for me. I could count on him. His attention made me feel safe.
Safe…
Was I safe?
Was he safe?
What if something happened to him all because of me?
What if something went terribly wrong for the both of us?
I tossed and turned on the couch with all these awful thoughts going on in my head. Minutes turned to hours, and the good night’s rest from before was now only a passing memory.
What if he got hurt? What if I got hurt? Obsession was a very dangerous thing, and we both could be at risk.
Were the doors closed tightly?
Did we block out all the bad, all the evil that could penetrate within this perfect and normal bubble I was in?
My head began to spin, my stomach churn. Voices entered my head, fighting with my sanity.
Not being able to remain silent in the dark anymore, I tiptoed to Mr. D’s bedroom without really thinking through all the consequences of what that action could mean.
He could reject me.
He could kick me out of his house and never speak to me again.
He could ignore me like the rest of the world seemed to do.
Or he could hold me.
Maybe he’d tell me that everything would be all right, and that he would chase all the monsters away.
I had nothing to lose at this point but everything to gain.
Like a child sneaking into her parent’s room for comfort after a nightmare, I innocently entered. I just needed to feel safe. I needed to not be alone. All other thoughts—thoughts of reason—vanished for mental preservation.
He didn’t stir when I entered the room. Almost as if I were in a trance or sleepwalking, I padded to the empty side of the bed and crawled in beside him. My weight on the mattress woke him, and he turned, startled to see it was me in bed beside him. Not giving him the chance to say anything that would shatter my heart, I pressed my body against him and cuddled into his arms.
“Hold me,” I whispered. “I’m afraid.”