Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 131888 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 528(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131888 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 528(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
He cleared his throat and ignored the woman burning a hole into the side of his face simply by using her eyeballs.
Yanking the brim of his hat lower, he spread his knees, set his boots flat on the floor and slid down until he slouched in the metal folding chair. Then he crossed his arms over his chest and half-listened to whatever story the guy across from him was rattling on about.
Memories.
That was what—What was his name? Jack, maybe—was droning on about.
The same as what most members of the group talked about every week.
Memories that made them sad and cry, or happy and smile.
Unlike Nox’s memory of last Friday night.
Of touching Liyah, tasting her skin, tasting her arousal on his fingers, breathing in her scent.
Of sliding in and out of her.
Of coming hard.
Goddamn it. The last thing he needed was a damn hard-on in the middle of a grief group.
He was a fucking mess.
He slid his eyes to the right and snuck a glance.
Yep, she was still staring at him and totally not paying attention to Jack talking about his honeymoon trip to Maui that happened twenty years ago.
Aloha.
Once the next person began to talk, he snuck another glance and saw she was back to paying attention to the stories being told.
Thank fuck.
He let his gaze roam over her, from the way she wore her hair pulled back tonight, to the empathy softening her eyes, to her slightly parted lips. His eyes slid over her chest and down her arms to where she had her hands folded in her lap. How the narrow black skirt she wore, along with the way her legs were crossed, showcased her smooth skin on her endlessly long legs. Tonight she wore strappy, open-toed, high-heeled sandals in a peach color that complimented her dark skin tone and matched her silk blouse.
The little of her he saw the other night made him wonder what she looked like totally naked. His imagination was good, but he was damn sure the reality was a fuck of a lot better.
When her head spun toward him, his spun, too, so she wouldn’t catch him staring. He focused on the floor in the center of the circle instead of the woman sitting next to him.
His nostrils flared just enough to pick up the light scent of her perfume. He had no idea what it was but knew whenever he smelled it in the future, he would think of her.
“Nox, you’re up next.”
His head jerked back, and his eyes widened. “Next for what?”
Fuck, he should’ve been paying better attention.
“Since you missed the discussion because of coming in late, I’ll clue you in.”
Jesus. She was using her mom voice again and might as well be scolding him.
“Tonight, we’re going around the circle and sharing a favorite trip with your loved one.”
“Denial,” he said under his breath.
“Did you say the Nile?”
He sucked on his teeth and thought about his favorite trip with Jackie. “I don’t have one.”
“Sure you do. We all do. It could be as simple as going to the movies or the park. It doesn’t have to be some exotic trip like climbing Mount Everest. Or traveling down the Nile.” Her lips flattened into a thin line.
He opened his mouth to ask, “Do I have to?” but then realized that would make him sound like she was correct in using her mom voice with him.
He needed to stop acting like a miserable fuck. He hated when he heard himself, but despite that, he couldn’t stop it.
Since the day he found Jackie, happiness seemed to stay just out of reach.
In the rare times he laughed or smiled, or cracked a joke, he felt guilty for enjoying life. Even for those fleeting moments.
“Nox?”
Shit.
“I don’t have one,” he repeated automatically, then cursed himself for being such an asshole.
The one trip that rose above the rest, he couldn’t share because he couldn’t force it past his lips.
Fuck, he’d been so goddamn happy that day. The day they went to the imaging center to get a 3D ultrasound. The day he was able to see his daughter for the first—and last—time.
The day he was clueless about the train barreling around the corner about to hit him at full speed.
Knocking him right out of those comfortable shoes.
“Nox?” finally penetrated his brain.
He turned to look at Liyah. Her brow was furrowed, and she wore a concerned expression. “There’s nothing you’re comfortable with sharing?”
“I,” the weight bearing down on his chest quickly became unbearable, and he finished on a whisper, “can’t.”
Her throat undulated as she swallowed, gave him the slightest nod and went on to discuss their next activity.
Thank fuck she didn’t push it.
He said he wasn’t coming back to these meetings. He should’ve stuck with that declaration. What was the point, if he didn’t share anything? If he got absolutely zero out of attending?