Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 46751 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46751 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
I jump a foot into the air.
"Let me handle this, Sparrow. You cooked."
"I've got it, Gideon."
"You aren't my maid, baby. If I'm going to be staying here, I'm going to do my share."
"You aren't here as a guest. You're here as my bodyguard," I remind him. "I think you're doing plenty already."
He sighs and then bends slightly. Half a second later, I'm in his arms. I squeak, shock coursing through me.
"Put me down!"
"Gladly." He sits me in a chair at the table, smirking. "You can sit right there and watch me do the dishes."
"You can't do that!"
"What? The dishes?"
"I…you…Argh!" I splutter, not sure if I want to kiss him or kill him.
He chuckles, strolling back to the sink as if he isn't the most infuriating man in the world. Just so we're clear, he absolutely is. Infuriating. Hot. And way too good at unraveling me and my composure.
I glare at the back of his head while he rolls up his sleeves and starts working on the dishes, humming to himself. And then I realize what he's humming.
"That's my song."
"Is it?" The smile in his voice makes my stomach flutter. "Interesting."
Interesting? What does that mean?
"Did you write it?"
"I write all of my songs."
"What's it about?"
"My dad," I say softly. "He died two years ago."
Gideon turns slowly to look at me. "Damn, Sparrow. I'm sorry."
"Me too." I frown sadly. "Um, he and my mom got married right out of high school. They were madly in love right up until the day he died. She's really struggled since losing him. We all have, but it's been worse for her. She's had to learn how to be okay on her own when she's never been on her own. She always had him."
"Is that why you're so afraid to fall in love?"
"Who said I'm afraid of love, Gideon?"
He washes another plate and places it on the rack before answering. "It's written all over your face. When I kissed you today, you panicked. You're afraid to let yourself go there because you're afraid you'll fall."
"I am not."
"You are," he says quietly. "I think you're terrified of giving up control, Sparrow. When you love someone, you have something to lose. You're terrified of giving anyone the power to break your heart like your dad did when he died."
"Who says I'd fall for you, Gideon?" I retort, my chest heavy with the weight of his words. He's not wrong, damn him. I am terrified of giving anyone that power. I've seen what it's done to my mom. I don't want to wake up one day in the same place she's in now.
I'm not afraid of love.
It's losing it that scares the crap out of me.
So I focus on my career and music, and pretend that it's enough to fill the hole in my heart. It isn't. But the alternative? Risking a lifetime of grief when it all falls apart? That's not a risk I'm brave enough to take.
Gideon finishes the last two dishes before turning to face me, his green eyes piercing as they tangle with mine. His gaze pins me to my chair, holding me captive. "Lie to yourself if it makes you feel better, Sparrow. But we both know you felt the same thing I did today."
"W-what did you feel?" I ask, forcing sound out through the lump in my throat.
"Like you were meant to be in my arms."
"How's it going?" Kane asks an hour later.
"It's fine." I clutch the phone to my ear, pulling open my antique dresser with the other hand.
"Well, that was convincing."
I roll my eyes when he chuckles. "Gideon is fine, Kane. He's just like you. Freaking annoying."
My irritating brother laughs again. "I knew I liked him."
"Of course you do. Is it really necessary for him to live with me?"
"Yes."
"This is overkill."
"It's not overkill when it's your safety."
"He doesn't like John."
"Now, I really like him," Kane says, satisfaction in his voice.
I roll my eyes again, gathering my pajamas to go shower. I need to wash this day off me. Maybe then I'll be able to settle and sleep. Or not. Considering that Gideon will be camping out in my living room, I have a feeling sleep will be elusive tonight.
"Why are you calling me anyway?" I ask my brother.
"Just checking in."
"You mean being nosy," I correct.
"Tomato, tomato."
I smile despite myself when he pronounces it the same way both times. He's not very subtle and doesn't pretend to be. I love that about him. Despite the fact that we're fifteen years apart, we've always been close. He's an amazing brother, even when he's annoying me. He's always looked out for me.
"Are you and Maya coming to my show tomorrow?"
"Wouldn't miss it, brat," he says.
I exhale a tiny breath, relieved he'll be there. It always makes me feel better when he's there. I don't get nervous playing for crowds anymore. But ever since I got that poem, I've been anxious about it. I look out into crowds now and see hundreds of potential stalkers. I hate that so much.