Total pages in book: 213
Estimated words: 201920 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1010(@200wpm)___ 808(@250wpm)___ 673(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 201920 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1010(@200wpm)___ 808(@250wpm)___ 673(@300wpm)
“You popped off?” she asks and I turn around to the sound of her saddened voice. My stomach twists when I see her expression. Like she can’t believe my father would have ever struck me.
She has no idea.
“I should have known better.” My words don’t do a thing to change the look in her eyes and when they move from the thin scattering of silver scars on my back to my own gaze, all I see is sympathy. And I don’t fucking want it. Not from anyone, and sure as fuck not from her.
“Leave it alone, Addison.” I move back to the dresser for pants and a shirt, opening one drawer and slamming it shut before moving to the next.
“What did you say?” I hear her ask softly as I shut a third drawer, still not finding what I’m looking for. The fourth drawer slams shut harder than I intended.
“It doesn’t matter.” My response doesn’t faze her.
“I wouldn’t have thought he’d ever-”
“He saved that side of himself for Carter and me,” I say, cutting her off sharply before I can stop myself. Apparently the anger is stronger than I thought. Up until now I assumed the animosity was buried with him when he died.
“I’m sorry,” she says softly and it only amplifies my agitation.
The air is tense in the bedroom as I slip on a t-shirt and pajama pants, an old plaid flannel pair.
“Pass me one?” Addison asks, apparently ready to move on from the revelation that my father wasn’t the saint Tyler made him out to be.
I almost toss the black cotton Henley toward the bed, but instead I walk it to her. Letting her take it from me and when she does, her slender fingers brush against mine.
There’s nothing sexier than watching her pad around this place in nothing but my t-shirt. Her occupation means she can work anywhere, which means her ass is staying right here with me. For now.
Gripping her hand as she takes the shirt, I pull her closer to me and steal a quick kiss. And then another as I release her.
She props herself up on the bed, getting onto her knees and deepening the small kiss. As she bites gently on my bottom lip, she tangles both of her hands in my hair. I let myself fall forward, bracing my impact with one arm on either side of her.
She doesn’t open her eyes until she gives me a sweet peck right where she bit me. Her green eyes stare back at me for only a moment before she closes them again and brushes the tip of her nose against mine.
My fucking heart is a bastard for wanting to believe the kiss has anything to do with the conversation we just had. But it flips in my chest as if that little nudge and the fact that her eyes were closed meant everything in the world.
I’ve always had a bastard heart when it comes to her.
“I have to work,” I tell her and quickly bend down to plant a quick kiss on her temple. I’d better leave before I wind up doing nothing but staying in bed.
“So you don’t want to come with me to check out the campus?”
“I’m not sure there’s a polite way to say this, but fuck no.” It amazes me how easy it is to be candid with Addison. Maybe it’s because just like now, she isn’t offended or taken aback. She simply takes what I have to give and smiles.
“So you think I shouldn’t go here?” she asks and from her tone I know it’s a loaded question.
“Why would you?” I offer in rebuttal.
She breaks eye contact and shrugs, picking at a thread on the comforter. “It seems like a business degree would make sense.”
“You already have your business set up and it’s successful, isn’t it?”
“I’m doing well. How’d you know? You look me up?” she asks playfully, but I ignore her and the twinge in my chest.
“Then why bother?”
She peeks up at me over her shoulder with a defensive look on her face. “Well, why do you bother?”
Leaning forward, I lower my voice to answer her. “I don’t. I’m not staying.”
“You’re going home?” she asks and the very idea of home doesn’t quite sit right with me, but neither does the expression on her face. The hurt one that she can’t hide although I’m not sure she would bother even if she was aware of how transparent her emotions are.
“I’m working and that might lead me back to where we grew up.”
As I lower myself back onto the bed slowly, I question being so honest with her. The coy and curious nature I’ve come to enjoy from her turns timid. Like she’s walking into dangerous territory.
“Should I ask?” Her voice is quiet and she doesn’t look me in the eye.