Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 120326 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 602(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120326 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 602(@200wpm)___ 481(@250wpm)___ 401(@300wpm)
Sometimes you can be so deeply wrapped up in a person that the only way to deal with it is to use cruelty to push them away.
His lips explore mine, my lips meld into his. He’s drinking me in, his fingers moving over my face reverently. With one hard sweep of his tongue he infiltrates my mouth, but a second later it’s gone. He’s gone. And with that the feeling of wholeness disappears. It’s like I never knew what I needed in life until this exact moment, and what I need is Robert. My childhood tormentor. My best friend’s brother. Someone I’m supposed to despise.
I realise why he stopped once I’ve finally gathered my senses from that earth-shattering kiss. His phone is buzzing with a text message. His chest rises and falls erratically as he taps on the screen, and his eyes scan the message.
“It’s Sasha,” he explains, his voice gravelly. “I didn’t tell her I was going after you. She wants to know where I am. She and the others have gone to look for a restaurant for lunch.”
“Oh,” I say, my eyes straying to his jeans, where I can see how, uh, excited that short kiss made him. My head is cloudy with confusion. What just happened? Has Robert always wanted me this badly? Or is it just a recent development?
He drapes his arm over the top of the seat. “You smell like the beach,” he comments, his voice low.
“Mm-hmm,” I say, distracting myself from his stare by bending down to fix the buckle on one of my sandals. I feel his hand move along my back, down my spine, before curling around my waist.
“So, where were we?” he asks, pulling me to his side and planting his lips on my neck.
I make a low moaning noise as the sensation of his lips on my neck travels through my nerve endings to the base of my spine.
“Shit,” I mutter, torn between wanting to stay here and continue this with him and needing space to contemplate things.
“Fuck, I want you,” he hisses as his hand moves up under my dress, softly grazing my inner thigh.
The combination of his touch and his declaration makes me melt, but I pull myself away slightly. I can’t stay here — I need to go eat.
“We’d better catch up with Sasha and the others,” I tell him hoarsely.
“Later,” he murmurs, his lips still moving on my neck.
Thinking he’s been at it long enough that it could leave an embarrassing red mark, I put my hands to his chest and push him away.
“I’m being serious, Rob. I have to have lunch within the next half hour, or I won’t feel well for the rest of the day.”
He looks at me gravely. “You’re right. Come on, we’ll go find Sasha, then.”
He helps me from the car, and as we make our way toward the street I notice him looking at my hand every once in a while, as though considering whether or not to take hold of it. In the end he must decide against it, or perhaps he’s too shy to make such a bold move. Then again, “shy” was never a word I would associate with Robert.
We find the group sitting at a large window table in a nice bistro-style restaurant. Robert takes the seat next to me as a waiter comes and hands us some extra menus. I order a caprese salad and some sweet potato wedges, and Robert gets the lasagna.
“Where were you two?” Sasha asks, eyeing her brother curiously.
“I went to find Lana. She was still at the car when I got there.”
Sasha’s eyes widen as she moves her attention to me. It’s clear what she’s wondering. Did Robert see me taking my insulin? Now that it’s out in the open, I feel ridiculous for being so adamant about keeping it a secret from him. If anything, his finding out opened up a whole new aspect to our relationship. I can still smell his kisses on my skin, still feel the memory of his lips pressed into mine.
The waiter is working his way through the table, taking down orders. When he reaches Kara, my attention perks up at how much food she asks for. She’s the kind of girl who you’d always expect to order a garden salad, or something equally tasteless, but she doesn’t. She asks for the mushroom soup, the steak, chicken wings, and a large portion of chips. I catch sight of Michelle and Sandra eyeing one another as Michelle mouths what is unquestionably the word “bulimia” at Sandra.
How very bitchy. I mean, maybe she’s just really hungry. Right now Kara reminds me of Regina George in Mean Girls. Even though her friends seem to worship the ground she walks on, they’re all spreading rumours about her and talking about her behind her back.
“My girl likes to eat,” says Gary, who’s sitting on the other side of Kara. He puts his big beefy arm around her waist, squeezing her thin hip.
Kara beams at him before giving him a kiss on the cheek.
After this she glances across table to where Robert is sitting, presumably to check if he saw their little exchange of affection. I quickly look away so she doesn’t see me staring at her.
Robert has one arm leaning on the table, his seat turned a fraction to face me, his attention nowhere near Kara.
When I look at him his eyes are at half mast, and I can tell he’s remembering what happened back in the car. I distract myself by grabbing a piece of brown bread from the basket and buttering it with a knife. I feel Sasha kicking my leg beneath the table, and when my eyes reach hers she gives me a questioning look. Since Robert’s staring at me, I can’t exactly explain what happened to her, so she’ll just have to wait until later.
Her phone starts ringing anyway, which distracts her attention from me. Seconds after she answers it, she’s pulling a notepad from her bag and scribbling down details. She says stuff like “Don’t mess me around on this, Cooper,” and “Yeah, well, I’ll have to look into it myself,” and on it goes. This is the way she speaks on the phone when it’s about work.