Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 98961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98961 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
“And I would have a lot of scars,” I go on, holding my arms out in front of me. “But I’m not human. Not fully.”
“Callie,” Easton says slowly, hazel eyes widening. “What—where—what?” He closes his eyes and then grunts in pain, hand going to his head. “Ow, fuck!”
“Easton?” I ask, getting to my feet, but as soon as I feel the carpet against my toes, I get hit with the same pain. It’s happened before, and I remember knocking a glass to the floor in the apartment kitchen.
This has happened before? Oh, shit. If we’re stuck in a loop then—the pain goes away and I look up, blinking.
“That was weird.” Easton is still rubbing his forehead, brows pushed together. “I’m gonna say no more wine after nine PM for both of us.” He chuckles. “When did we become such lightweights?”
“Yeah,” I reply, brain fuzzy. We were in the middle of a serious conversation, weren’t we? It feels almost as if we were fighting and got interrupted and now I don’t know where things stand and the uncertainty of it all is making me anxious.
“You’re not too hung over to rock your presentation, I hope.”
“Nah, I’m good.” I slowly inhale and get up. The presentation. Right. It’s about a book, a book about a witch and her vampire lover and they fight demons and save the world and love each other dearly despite being forbidden to be together.
It’s my favorite book I’ve ever read. And I want to read it again and get lost in the pages because there’s something raw and real and—holy shit.
“Easton,” I say and whirl around. “Please tell me you remember.”
“Remember what?” He cocks an eyebrow. “It’s not our anniversary or anything and other than dinner with Abby tonight, I have nothing on my calendar.”
“Abby. Right. Abby, Phil, and Penny.”
“Who are Phil and Penny?”
I get another stabbing pain, right between my eyes, but this time I grit my teeth and fight through it. And now it’s like I can’t remember anything, like I’m trying to recall events after a night of wild drinking.
“I think they’re…they’re friends from work.” I look out the window, feeling like I’m being watched. “I, um, I…what were we talking about?”
“I don’t know.” Easton rubs his temple. “I have a headache. No more wine after nine PM for either of us.”
“Right?” I shake my head and go into the bathroom to shower, unable to shake the nagging feeling. I turn on the water and stick my hand in, waiting for the water to warm up. As soon as the water touches my fingers, I get a flash of being pulled into murky water and slowly sinking below the surface covered with green algae and lily pads.
Shaking my head, I strip out of my tank top and get into the shower, quickly rinsing off and washing my face. I get out and wrap a towel around myself and the feeling that something is wrong comes back tenfold to the point where I have to grip the counter and make myself take several deep breaths.
“You all right?” Easton comes into the bathroom and turns the overhead fan on.
“I um…I can’t get rid of the feeling that I’m missing something. Something big.” I bring my hand to my chest. “And I don’t mean just like I forgot to lock the deadbolt or left my phone on the nightstand. I mean missing, like a piece of my heart is gone.” I don’t know how else to explain the hidden grief that’s suddenly weighing me down.
“It’s okay,” Easton says gently and comes up behind me. His hands land on my waist, gently squeezing me. I like the physical touch but it feels wrong at the same time.
Because he’s not the one I’m supposed to be with.
I inhale and straighten up, turning around in his arms. He’s familiar yet shouldn’t be this close. “I don’t think we’re supposed to be here,” I say slowly and I watch the conflicting emotions play across Easton’s face.
“Why shouldn’t we? We’re happy, aren’t we?”
“I think so…but…something is missing,” I press. “I don’t remember opening any wine last night. Or going to bed. Where did I go to college? And Black Ink isn’t a real publisher.” I close my eyes, feeling tears well behind my eyelids. “And you…you’re not a politician. It’s the last thing you’d want to do.”
“Maybe it was because I was never given the chance,” Easton says, taken aback by his own words. His hands fall from my waist, and he looks away, brows coming together. “We deserve to be happy. You…you deserve to not have to live…live in the dark.”
“Holy shit,” I whisper as it comes rushing back. We were walking to the Covenstead so I could have Evander help me with the oracle—the fucking oracle that’s going to get Lucas back.