Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 119152 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 596(@200wpm)___ 477(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119152 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 596(@200wpm)___ 477(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
I pull my hand away to wipe my cheek. “The last night. . . you asked me for a truce. Why?”
He stalls. I pull away, and he grabs me. “I wanted to be done. I didn’t want the games anymore. I wanted to enjoy your laughter, not your disgust. I liked hearing you laugh. It just. . . did something to me. And I wanted all that over feeling like I was winning our little game. I waited for you that night. Heard Hannah say you two were almost done with whatever the fuck you were working on.”
“Wait, it wasn’t a coincidence that you almost ran me over?”
He shakes his head. “No. I was waiting for you.”
“Why?”
“I don’t even know. It was messed up. But I couldn’t make myself just go home. I wanted to make things right. I was leaving for school at the end of the summer and knew I didn’t want to leave things the way they were. I needed to earn just one more smile. One more laugh before I left.”
“And did you get it?” I whisper.
He stares down at me, pain and guilt radiating in his gaze. “No.”
My dad had opened the door and pulled me inside. He yelled at Ben for being on his property and slammed the door in his face. The events after that will always be blurry, but it was the last time I saw Ben—until the night of the wedding. “Mak, I should have done something. It wasn’t right what he did.”
“That’s not on you.”
“But I never said anything. I never knew. I figured he was just a pissed-off parent. I never. . . He—I would have fuckin’ done something.” He presses his forehead against mine. “I guess I’ve always let you down.”
The crazy thing is he never has. He was the one thing I held onto. The one game I kept playing. Because no matter how bad it hurt, it also felt. . . good. Ben breathed life into me while my father tried to strike it away. He made me realize I had a fire inside me and the power to use it.
I raise my hands to cup his cheeks. “You gave me a reason to fight.”
“I let you down—”
“No, you gave me my lifeline.”
“How? I walked away that night—”
“Remember that time we went camping with the Matthews? We were around the fire, and you asked me who my lifeline would be if I was caught in a sticky situation?”
“Shit, you remember that?”
“You asked me, trying to put me on the spot. Of course, you wanted me to slip up and give you an opportunity to poke fun. But in that moment, I honestly thought about it.”
“You said your Aunt Karen.”
A fresh tear falls from my eyes as a smile breaches my face. “I did. My mom’s sister loved me like her own. My dad refused to let her see me, but before my mom died, she always told me if I ever needed an angel to rescue me to call her. That night, when I was in bad shape. . . that question came back to me.”
“Mak—”
“I toughed out the pain and made it out of the house. I ran to the convenient store two neighborhoods over and used the payphone to call her. I must have passed out because when I woke up, I was in the hospital, and she was there. She was my lifeline. She saved me.”
Anguish pours from his eyes. “God, Mak—”
“Ben, I love you too.” The words fall from my lips, but they feel right. He snakes his hand around my neck, bringing our mouths together. There are no more words. A wildfire surges between us. Consuming our souls. The world could burn to ash around us, and we'd stay whole. Together, we're indestructible.
His shirt is torn off me, and I fumble with the button of his jeans. I’m up in his arms as he turns, pressing me against the wall. He’s urgent kicking his jeans below his knees, then finds my throbbing sex and fills me in one deep thrust.
A small gasp tears past my lips. His fingertips dig into my ass as he thrusts in and out, driving into me with purpose.
“Say it again. I want to hear you say it again.” My back slides up the wall. His mouth captures my breast, and he bites down on my nipple. With the pain comes pleasure. “Fucking say it—”
My hands thread into his hair, and I tug. “I love you. As crazy as that sounds, God, I love you.”
His mouth captures mine. His pace increases. “Makayla Fischer—hell with that, you’re ditching that asshole’s last name. Makayla Jacobs, I love the fuck out of you. Everything about you. I’m done messing up with you.”
I want to reply, but the words are stuck in my throat. My orgasm builds and builds. I can’t focus on anything but the way he makes me feel. My walls clench, and I grip his hair tighter. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I cry out in surrender. “Ben. . .”