Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 98226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
“I’m fine.”
“Oh, so we’re back to lying to each other?”
I breathed a laugh, shaking my head, and all the while I was still looking on the floor for Ivy’s earring.
“What happened?”
I sat back on my heels, looking up at Theo with a helpless shrug as more tears flooded my eyes.
As soon as he saw them, something washed over his face — Anger? Pain? Longing? — and then in a motion that shocked me still, Theo dropped to his knees, too.
His eyes were level with mine, now — steady and strong while mine were puffy and glossed. His gaze searched mine, and when I tried to look away, to hide my emotion from him, his fingers caught my chin, holding me so I couldn’t.
I shivered at the touch.
“You wanted to know something true,” he said, voice soft and low. “The other night.”
My eyes flicked back and forth between his, a flash of that night in the hot tub hitting me like a subway train. Suddenly, I realized how close we were. Suddenly, I realized we were alone. Suddenly, I remembered what he’d said earlier, about what he would have done if I were his.
What would it be like to be his?
Theo let out a steady breath, his thumb brushing my jaw where he held me. “So here it is,” he said. “Something true.”
His eyes traced my features, taking in every inch of my face before he locked his gaze on mine once more.
“For some impossible reason I cannot fathom, I care for you,” he said, and it wasn’t a whisper, but a sound, steady statement. “It’s kept me up at night, Aspen. I’ve had one question haunting me.”
I swallowed.
“How could a seemingly ordinary girl from Colorado who wasn’t even supposed to be on my boat at all, become the center of my focus and attention, of my every waking thought and every sleepless night?”
My throat tightened with a new wave of emotion, and my next breath was labored and hot.
“There’s a truth,” he whispered, moving closer, his fingers sliding up until his entire palm rested against my cheek where I leaned into the touch. “And seeing you upset like this makes me want to light this entire boat on fire, if it means destroying whoever it was who brought you this pain.”
My face twisted, and the tightness in my chest let loose all at once in the form of another rush of tears. I choked on the sob, and Theo pulled me into his chest, wrapping his arms around me and holding me tight against him as I surrendered to the breakdown.
I let him hold me, let my fists twist in the fabric of his suit jacket, tugging him closer as much as I was pushing him away. I sobbed into his chest as he ran his fingers through my hair, loosening the braid it had been in and calming me with a gentle command.
Shhh, shhh. I’ve got you. I’m here.
I cried even harder at those words, and for the longest time, that’s how we existed — me in his arms, him shielding me from the world on that tiny bathroom floor. I cried until I had no tears left to give. I sobbed until my breaths had no choice but to steady. My eyes dried up, and then they closed, and exhaustion flooded over me, taking me under.
I couldn’t be sure how long we were there, how long he held me and soothed me until I fell still and silent in his arms. The fatigue that found me was all-encompassing, and I couldn’t open my eyes, let alone lift my head to thank him.
In the distant haze of my awareness, I felt Theo lift me from the floor. I felt him carry me into the room, lay me on the bed, pull the sheets and comforter up and over my shoulders. I felt his hand brush away the hair from my face, and that was the last touch he gave me before the light clicked off, and the door opened and closed again with a quiet snick.
And I fell into a fever dream, one where the yacht was on fire, the flames licking the dark night sky while Theo carried me dazed and confused down the dock toward the shore.
Toward safety.
I woke up alone.
My head pounded like someone had shaken me so hard it’d scrambled my brain, and I groaned against the pain, squeezing my eyes tight before I was brave enough to creak them open. It had to be early, judging by the soft little bit of light coming through our one and only window in the cabin, but Joel wasn’t here.
I had no idea if he left for work already or if he ever came home at all.
Slowly, I lifted myself onto my palms, scooting back until I could rest against the headboard. After a good scrub of my hands through my hair, I steeled a breath and fought the headache long enough to make it to the bathroom.