Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 45063 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 225(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45063 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 225(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
Yet still savage. Still compelling.
I should be glad when Bryson pulls Adam into a hug.
I can tell Mom and Dad are pleased by the smile they exchange.
All I can do is stare and know this makes me more of a traitor. I’m not obsessing about my brother’s ex-best friend now. They’ve made up.
Whatever the fight was about—Adam keeps refusing to tell me—Eva’s car accident has pushed it all aside.
“Something good came from this, at least,” Dad says quietly.
“Yes,” Mom replies. “Thank goodness.”
I’ve told nobody about my crush except for Tiffany, my best friend and podcast partner.
Our show, The Girl-vine—a play on Grapevine—is all about different issues women face today. Next week’s topic is unrequited love. I didn’t choose it. Tiffany did, but that was before she knew Bryson was visiting. She’s seen the notebooks filled with his name, been there as I’ve drifted off, so consumed with fantasies of him there might as well be Bryson-shaped thought bubbles above my head.
“I’m going to get more wine,” Mom says.
“I’ll get it for you,” I reply, wanting any excuse not to sit here and gape at Bryson.
I move through the room, accepting condolences, the heat in my cheeks telling me I’m blushing severely.
I wish I wore makeup, but I rarely do. In my craziest dreams—waking and asleep—I imagine Bryson telling me I’m prettier without it, telling me he wants me natural, just me, all me, the way I want…
I almost walk directly into somebody as I pass the refreshments table.
“Sorry,” I say, stepping back. I need to stop daydreaming.
“It’s fine.”
A shudder grips me. My body tingles from head to toe.
Obsessive sensations compel me to reach up, squeeze onto his chest through his shirt, and feel his powerful muscles and the gentle strength I first experienced when he deftly handled my broken wrist.
I don’t.
Looking up, there he is, Bryson Sawyer. His icy eyes seem to bite into me, attack me like he somehow knows about my crush, and he’s disgusted by it.
Disgusted by me.
He thinks I’m wrong, defective somehow, for letting such feelings invade this setting. If those are the thoughts flurrying around his silver-tinged head, is he wrong?
We stare at each other for a long moment. His jaw pulses at the same time as his temples, like he’d rather be anywhere but here.
“I’m so sorry for your loss,” he says after a pause, his voice gruff.
“Thank you,” I murmur. “It’s a loss for you, too. You knew Eva well.”
“Yeah,” Bryson nods, towering over me, meaning I have to crane my head to look up at him. “It’s a terrible thing. You need to be there for your brother. We both do.”
My hands clench into fists at my sides. My heart is pounding.
Every obsessive instinct is yelling, Kiss him. Hold him. Be his. Make him attracted to you.
It’s like my animal brain is roaring from the back of my head, and I have to use the thinking part, the reasoning section, to quiet it down.
“Does that mean you’re here to stay?” I ask, hoping he can’t hear the eagerness in my voice.
Nothing can ever happen, but I feel happier with him so close, as though there’s hope for a future that can obviously only be a dream.
“For a while,” Bryson says.
“I’m sure Adam will be glad to hear that.”
“I hope so.”
It’s like he hates me, the way he’s staring at me as if he wishes I could melt into nothing and leave him alone. I tell myself I’m imagining it, but his lips are curled, his eyes glinting with primal rage.
In a twisted wish, I imagine it’s lust instead.
I imagine he’s thinking all the deranged and beautiful thoughts I am.
CHAPTER TWO
Bryson
Harper is five and a half feet tall, quite short compared to me, her wavy brown hair freed to her shoulders. She’s not wearing any makeup, giving her a youthful and vivacious look.
The deep flush in her cheeks makes me think shameful thoughts, like wondering if the rest of her turns red so easily.
Her curvy hips, her big round juicy ass, her breasts trapped in the black shirt, begging for me to tear the buttons away and free them, to suck her nipples until her toes curl and she’s shivering and begging for me to touch her sex.
I keep my face as composed as I can.
I knew it would be difficult to see her again. But I was prepared for it.
Apart from the lust raging deep within, I want to pull her gently into my arms and whisper that I’m here for her too, not just Adam. I want to whisper that when she’s ready, I’m going to gift her with my seed, a family, and a future, and she’s going to make the best mother, the best wife…
I want to assure her I will be here for her… always.
My heart hammers, but I don’t let any of this out and remain civilized.