Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 55832 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55832 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
“Hartford has been part of the Atwood family and I always considered her to be family. To be my sister. But tomorrow, she will officially be an Atwood, and my sister.”
Griffin steals the last chair at the table, staring at Anya as she looks at Paxton. “My big brother is going to be someone’s husband. I’m so happy for you, Pax. You’ve been my sounding board and always the one in my corner. I love you so much and I couldn’t have picked a more perfect person for you to spend the rest of your life with.” He blows her a kiss and damn, I think I’ve got some dust in my eyes because they’re a little watery.
“Now, please raise your glasses for Paxton and Hartford. Two amazing people who deserve all the happiness in the world. I love you both.”
Everyone cheers when she finishes and as Paxton and Hartford make their way over, Griffin grabs Anya and holds her tight.
“Oh my God, are you crying?” Willow asks, wiping the tears from her eyes.
“No, the fucking dust in this room is ridiculous,” I say, blinking rapidly.
She turns in her seat and smiles at me before wrapping her arms around my neck. “Don’t hide your emotions, Brock. It’s sexier when you’re honest and a guy who can cry happy tears for his brother is pretty damn hot,” she whispers.
I squeeze her tightly as I press a soft kiss to her neck. “Wait until we get back to the room and I show you just how fucking sexy I find it when you say things like that to me.” I kiss her neck again, nipping at it as I pull away. “Hope you’re not tired because I plan on making you scream my name more than once.”
Chapter 21
Willow
This all feels so real.
This all feels so real.
This all feels so freaking real.
I can’t explain what is happening deep inside of me, but it’s like my chest is blossoming into something radiant. It’s like my mind’s opening to the possibility of love.
Reality crashes down around me as I remember this is all fake. It’s a ruse, and I have to stop pretending that something real can come from this.
It can’t.
It won’t.
This isn’t a fairytale where happily ever afters happen to anyone who wishes hard enough for them.
We’re just having fun, but when I saw the tears in Brock’s eyes when he was listening to his sister speak, I nearly professed my love right there and then.
Wait.
I do not love Brock.
Right?
I close my eyes, Brock’s arms wrapped tightly around me as the elevator races up to our hotel room. I push away the guilt of earlier when Carol Atwood stopped me before we left the dinner and pulled me aside.
She told me how happy she was that I was with Brock, and I felt horrible for lying to her when I said, ‘I care so much about him.’
Although I no longer think it was a lie.
It isn’t.
Even now as the elevator doors spring open, I feel it in my chest. I care about Brock. Deeply.
However, I can never act on these feelings. Nothing will ever be real between us. Brock isn’t serious about me. He doesn’t want me.
I honestly have no idea if he wants me or not, but I’m too afraid to ask him. I’m too afraid to put my heart on the line and tell him I want this relationship to be real.
As we step off the elevator and head down the hall, hand-in-hand, I push away the guilt and worry. I decide right here and now that I’m going to enjoy these last few days with Brock as his fake girlfriend and everything that entails.
Including him inside me.
Because I’ve never in my life wanted anything so badly.
Brock opens the hotel room door, and leads me inside. Before he can even turn on a light, he’s got me wrapped up in his arms, his mouth pressing kisses along my neck. “I can’t stop thinking about having you beneath me. I want you, Willow.”
I gaze into his eyes, trying to memorize everything about tonight. “I want you too.”
We move in unison to the bed, and as soon as his knees hit the mattress, he sits down. I move between his legs, and his hands rub along my waist.
He’s eye level with my stomach, and he gazes up at me. “You turn me on so fucking much, Willow.”
My hand flies through his hair as my other hand rests atop his shoulder. I could easily straddle his lap right now, but his fingers move across my knee, and slowly trace upward. “Brock,” I whisper.
A small smile lifts his lips as his hand goes under my dress. He keeps moving up, up, and up and then his hand bunches around the panel of my panties and he drags his hand down, bringing my panties with it. “These panties are mine now.”