Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56294 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56294 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
“Would it really be that bad?” I ask.
He looks down at me as if inviting me to forget about Paul and everything else. He stares as if silently telling me that this moment alone exists. Or—and this is very likely—my crush is rearing its unkillable head again.
“I don’t know,” he says. “I leave the PR stuff to my team. They’re good at what they do. You don’t need to worry about that. I wanted to warn you. If the video gets more views, you might be recognized.”
I grit my teeth and sit up. “I don’t care about that.”
He blinks and looks fascinated. There’s a dorky kid inside me cheering and running in frantic, happy circles right now. I need to calm down, big time, but it feels so, so good. So right. “I wasn’t expecting you to say that.”
“I bet a lot of people will side with me,” I tell him. “Especially when they learn why you were at the hospital. Just because you’re a celebrity doesn’t mean you’re not a person, too.”
He sits back and says nothing, getting a dreamy, faraway look in his eyes. “On the East Coast, I didn’t feel like much of a person, but since being back here…”
A shiver courses through me when his hand rests on my leg. I’m unsure if it’s by accident, but he keeps his hand there, even squeezing a little. I’m wearing shorts again. It’s skin-on-skin contact. My body is aching so damn enticingly.
Suddenly, he stands up, turns, and looks down at me. His mouth is a tight line. Before, I would’ve called him cold, but it’s more like he’s trying to fight something. Fight the desire? Does he feel it, too? It’s not like I have much experience reading signals like this.
I stand up, needing to move and do something. We’re inches apart again. He hasn’t moved or said anything. It’s like we’re frozen.
“I’m—”
“It’s okay,” I cut in before he can apologize. I should want him to apologize for touching my leg, but it would ruin it, which is something I should want.
“It’s not,” he says firmly, nodding toward the hallway, toward Paul.
Despite the betrayal, my heart starts to beat so quickly. He just acknowledged that he’s attracted to me, right? Why else would he nod toward Paul? He’s basically saying he wanted to touch my leg, but he can’t because of my brother.
I nod, trying to do the right thing. “You didn’t do anything,” I tell him.
“No?” He steps closer, wrapping me in a warm bubble of warmth, the exact kind I should be fighting. “Then why is your leg still red?”
I look down. He’s right. My thigh has a love mark from where he touched me. Looking at him again, I see he’s staring at my leg as if he’s obsessed. It’s like Paul could walk in here, and he still couldn’t stop, but that’s the thing. Paul can’t walk. We’re being complete monsters by even hinting at this.
“I should go,” he says, turning away.
“Uh, okay.”
I follow him toward the front door. Then he suddenly turns. It’s like something snaps in him, his resolve crumbling. Suddenly, his hands are on my hips. I gasp as he turns, gently pushing me against the wall. His hands sink deeper, my desire flurrying.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” I say because I have to. If it wasn’t for Paul… But I can’t think like that. Paul is a factor—the factor—whether I like it or not. I can’t simply pretend he doesn’t exist.
“I know. Tell me to stop.”
I try to make myself say the words. He sounds desperate. It’s as if me turning him down is the only way he can fight this desire. Of all the countless times I imagined Kaleb wanting me, it was never with this much fire. His hands are making tattoos of lust against my hips, squeezing tighter and tighter.
“Sophie. Tell me to stop.”
But I just can’t do it. This is everything I’ve ever wanted. Even if it wasn’t—even if I never had a crush on him—my body is screaming at me with too much compulsion. It hammers into me with the force of a train—too much for me to handle. I’ve never experienced a magnetic pull like this.
He leans closer, his breath hot against me. “Fuck. You’re too damn irresistible.”
Time slows as he leans the rest of the way. I’ll never be able to tell myself this kiss took me by surprise. I’ll never be able to claim I was too stunned to react. I’ve got a chance to stop this right now. I’ve got a chance to grab his chest, push him away, yell at him that we can’t do this. Paul isn’t even asleep. He might hear us.
Then, instead of pulling him away, I pull myself toward him. I slide my hands around his body and lean into the kiss. He groans in a complicated way, like he can’t believe we’re doing this, can’t believe how good it feels, and already can’t wait to do it again. That’s everything that’s rushing through me, anyway.