Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 87255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
His words make me feel safe. Protected. Valued. He’s not trying to take over my life or control my movement. He genuinely cares about me.
Me: I promise I won’t go anywhere without Foxx.
Renn: Thank you.
Me: It’s going to cost you …
Renn: I was hoping you were going to say that.
Me:
I send quick texts to Ella and Brock, letting them know I’m back. They reply to tell me they’re coming over—separately.
“Let’s hope they’ve figured their stuff out,” I say, making a cup of coffee. “Because I don’t want them ruining my vibe.”
I find some milk and add it to my mug. As I put it back, I spot the notebook Astrid was telling me about yesterday. Sipping the liquid caffeine, I open the bright yellow cover. Sure enough, there are phone numbers, notes, dates, and times listed across three pages. Each item is categorized—the house, Renn, food, staff, family, emergency contacts, schedules, and miscellaneous. The top of the first page in bold letters reads I’M HERE TO HELP.
There’s a quality about Astrid that I love; I liked her as soon as I met her. I think we could be friends, and the thought makes me smile.
Maybe I can fit into Renn’s world.
I save her number on my phone before getting up. My mug warms my hands as I mosey my way through the house.
Renn’s home is a balance of understated and grand. There’s no way to look at it and not know it costs millions. Yet there’s not one singular thing that screams pretentiousness. I can imagine the rooms filled with friends at Thanksgiving and presents at Christmas. A party by the pool with the grill going and music playing. And babies scooting across the floor in walkers, babbling their first words.
I pause in the sunroom doorway with my chest on fire. I stare across the expansive lawn at the back of the house.
This house was built for a family. It was designed for memories and holidays—for birthday parties and backyard rugby games. But he’s never said he wants any of that with me.
I try to swallow around the lump in my throat.
Things between us have been heavenly. Almost too good to be true.
Maybe they are too good to be true.
Yet having had days with Renn—having him open himself up to me in ways I didn’t expect—it’s hard not to feel blissful. He’s a good man. I knew this, but I had written him off, possibly much like his father, and I feel terrible for that. I hadn’t realized how lonely it must truly be for someone at the top. He trusts some of his family, he trusts Astrid and Brock, but he doesn’t really have many people in his corner. He doesn’t feel like it, at least. And if there’s one thing I’m convinced of, I want to be one of those people he can count on.
And I can’t see that stopping in ninety days.
I fight against my inclination to hope for the best—to put what I want into the universe. I fight even harder to keep from admitting what I really want for myself … Renn.
The way he makes me feel is incredible. Who would’ve thought the bad boy of rugby would be so … everything. He’s passionate and kind. He has major protector vibes. The sex is incredible, and he makes me feel like I’m the only person who matters to him. Hell, he even volunteered to give me a baby.
I’m mid-drink when the realization hits me. He’s a nice man.
Slowly, I lower the mug and get the mouthful of coffee swallowed.
The room begins to spin.
I’m in love with Renn Brewer.
“No. No, no, no,” I say, carrying my drink back to the kitchen. “This can’t be happening. I’m just in a sex haze. That’s all.”
Despite saying the words out loud, I know I’m lying. I really do love him.
A hundred thoughts race through my mind. Everything from how did this happen? to what do I do now?
I set my coffee next to the sink and breathe deeply.
We promised to abort this mission if either of us had real feelings for the other. I made the damn rule. But the thought of walking away from him makes me want to vomit.
Quickly, my thoughts turn to rationalization.
What will it hurt to ride this out? It’s just three months. We’re having fun. If I keep my mouth shut and don’t make this weird, I can slowly detach myself from him over the next few months so it hurts less when it’s over.
I nod as my plan coalesces in my brain. “Yes. Just admit reality, and you’ll be fine. Like Ella said in Vegas—manage the explosion so you don’t implode.” My brows pull together. “Or whatever.”
I need to do something to distract myself from this rabbit hole. Renn’s mention of dinner at his mother’s house jumps to my mind as if my declaration of love somehow puts pressure on meeting his family.