Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78149 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78149 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
“I think most students feel that way.”
“Lizzie recently had to dissect a frog for her science class, and she didn’t care for that either.”
I noticed the way her face lit up when she talked about her daughter, like she enjoyed sharing that aspect of her life with me. The love burning in her eyes was like two beacons in the dark. “I want you there when I do this.” Even if she were backstage or in the audience, it would make me feel much calmer to know my crutch was just feet away. She excited me into happiness, but she also subdued my anger and insecurities.
At a very slow rate, her eyes softened, and she gave me a tender look. “I had already planned on it.”
Seventeen
Emerson
Ronnie pulled up to the sidewalk outside Derek’s building.
Derek turned to me and gave me a slight nod toward the lobby, like he wanted me to come inside.
“I should really get home…” Now that Derek was mine, I wanted him all the time. A session on the couch was fun, but it wasn’t even close to being enough. I wanted to be with him, really be with him. Now that our souls were vulnerable and connected, it gave me such satisfaction. There was no other kind of happiness like it.
Derek couldn’t hide his disappointment. “Just for an hour?” He didn’t want to take me away from my daughter or my family, but he wanted more time with me than just seeing me at work. He wanted complete privacy, for us to be away from the world behind the security of his penthouse door.
I couldn’t say no. “All right.”
We went to his penthouse on the top floor and stepped inside. He put his satchel on the dining table, the same spot he always put his things. He was in a hoodie and jeans, dressed casually even though he had so many zeros in his bank account. He never dressed up, not once. He turned back to me, his eyes taking me in possessively, like he could touch me without laying a hand on me.
I loved it when he looked at me like that. No other man in my life ever had. I had a daughter, but Derek was the first real man in my life. There had been no relationship in the last twelve years. Just casual flings to keep me sane. In many ways, he was my one and only, and I couldn’t believe he was so perfect.
He moved into me and wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me close like he might kiss me. But instead, he just held me there, his strong arms cradling me, his eyes looking into my face as if he hadn’t had a chance to look at me all day.
I loved those big hands on my body, cupping my cheek or squeezing my ass. When his strong arms wrapped around me, I felt like I was surrounded by a steel cage that would protect me from any harm. I had a beautiful family waiting for me at home, but in his arms felt like the safest place in the world.
“I just want to be with you for a little bit…” He held me like we were two people on the dance floor swaying to a slow ballad, except there was no music and there was no movement.
It was a different kind of intimacy that I couldn’t explain, and no amount of eye contact or lovemaking could replicate it. My arm moved around his neck while the other palm rested against his chest, feeling the hard concrete that his muscles resembled. I didn’t feel like the luckiest woman in the world just because he was gorgeous, but because of everything beneath the surface. “I love my daughter, but it’s hard to leave you every day.”
His hand cupped the back of my head, pulling the hair from my face, and he then kissed my forehead.
I closed my eyes at his touch because no man had ever kissed me like that.
He pulled away so he could look at me again, his hand returning to my waist.
Without thinking, I spoke my mind. “You can have any woman you want…and I’m not your type. How did this happen? And why does it feel so right?” I used to call him my friend, and that was true, but in reality, he had always been much more. I just wouldn’t allow myself to acknowledge it, to admit that I’d found the perfect man and he would never be mine.
He stared at me for a long time, taking one of those extended pauses that stretch for an eternity. His dark eyes looked into mine like he was reading my thoughts in companion to the words I’d already spoken. “They aren’t my type. I was only with those kinds of women because I didn’t want anything real. They aren’t thinking about marriage and kids, anything serious. And I certainly didn’t want anything serious either. It’s just easier that way. But with you…I’m ready to feel again. I need someone who satisfies me intellectually, understands my complexity, who accepts me as I am, and knows I think differently than other people. Beautiful women are a dime a dozen. But a beautiful soul is a diamond in the rough. You are smart, beautiful, unique…and that is my type.”