Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 84864 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84864 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
“Look at us,” I said, my cheeks flushing. “We’re both in bed.”
Wish you were in my bed. The words climbed up my throat, but I couldn’t free them.
“I can let you go,” I said instead. “If you need to be with your friends.”
“I’d much rather be out with you,” he said, making my pulse skip. “And I have a little time.”
Time. I swear the man was obsessed with it more than I was, and I was the one who only had so much of it left.
“You say things like that,” I said softly, fiddling with my comforter. “But you also said it would be better if you weren’t around me.”
“I know,” he said, sighing. I could almost picture him raking his fingers through his long hair. “I’m a complicated individual, Grace.”
“So if I hadn’t called…”
“I’ll always answer if you call,” he finished for me, and warmth expanded in my chest. But he said nothing to my unspoken question…if I hadn’t called, would he have? Or would he have stuck to his intention of staying away from me in the name of safety? Was I being ridiculous, thinking of passing up a trip to Ireland for the mere chance that I’d see him again?
What had he done to me?
“You’re not doing anything dangerous tonight, are you, Grace?” he asked when I’d stayed silent too long.
“What if I was?” I teased. I had no intention of leaving this bed, not when exhaustion clung to my bones. An off day. I was definitely having an off day. I knew I needed to sleep, even though it was the last thing I wanted to do. I needed energy for the last moments I had left.
“I’d have to bail on my friends and my rules and be dangerous with you.”
I grinned at that. “Because you’re my reaper?”
“You know it,” he said, and I felt tingly all over. Something about him filled me with an energy and craving I couldn’t explain. Like simply talking to him made everything better, made everything in my life make sense. Which made no sense at all.
It was too perfect, the way he made me feel, which only further added to my suspicions that he was a manifestation of my mind, a delusion created to ignore the tragic reality of my situation.
“Do I ever get to see your house?” I asked, and Ajax fell silent over the line.
Yep. Mark that one in the delusion column. Couldn’t visit a figment of my imagination’s house.
“I told you, Grace, it’s not safe—”
“And yet here we are…talking.”
“That’s different,” he said, almost a plea in his tone. “No one can see me talking to you over the phone.”
I furrowed my brow. “Who would see you?” Panic lashed through me. Oh, God, did he have a wife? A family I didn’t know about. Was that what keeping me safe meant? Sparing my feelings from when I found out he had someone else in his life who loved him and cared for him and would be devastated if she found out he was with me?
“You don’t want to know.”
“No,” I said, spiraling. “I think I do. I think I deserve to know if you have some wife out there who is eventually going to catch—”
A low growl cut off my words. “You think I would lie about something like that?”
His wounded words speared straight to the center of my heart. I swallowed hard, sighing. “No,” I sighed. “I don’t know. It doesn’t make sense, Ajax. This sudden insistence that we stay away from each other. Unless…”
Unless he was trying to protect himself from the hurt my death would cause.
Now that made sense in a way that nearly broke my heart.
But surely, I couldn’t mean that much to him already, right?
“Grace,” he warned. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Whatever you’re doing in your head,” he said. “I can practically feel the analyzing through the phone. Me wanting to keep my distance has everything to do with my life, my circumstances, not yours. If I did anything that caused you harm…”
“Those parts of your life you said you weren’t ready to tell me about?”
“Yes.”
I sighed, but understood. I wasn’t a person to push or beg for information, especially if it was this personal. Sure, I’d shared every gritty, dark piece of myself with him, but that didn’t mean he had to reciprocate.
I toyed with my blankets some more, wondering how we’d gotten here. I shrugged, even though he couldn’t see me. “Still wish I could see your house,” I said, circling back.
“Why do you want to see my place?” he asked, clearly deflecting.
“You’ve seen mine…”
“So, now I have to show you mine?” he laughed, and I couldn’t help but laugh too. The tightness in my chest from the previous conversation eased slightly.
“Maybe I’m curious what your room looks like.” And your bed and your shower…