Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 141634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 708(@200wpm)___ 567(@250wpm)___ 472(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 708(@200wpm)___ 567(@250wpm)___ 472(@300wpm)
I don’t respond even though I want to tell him he needs to make sure he gets rest. He works too much, but I know it will fall on deaf ears. I, unlike the rest of this family, know when to let people figure things out on their own.
“We should probably get a move on it soon.” I glance towards the hallway. “Is Jensen up yet?” I hedge, and my brother nods.
“He’s always up,” he says, stifling another yawn. “He took off an hour ago.”
My heart drops and my hand holding the creamer halfway tipped to my mug stops and I stare at my brother as he looks at his watch.
“I’m sure he’ll be back any minute. He was edgy this morning, so he went for a run. That’s what he usually does when he’s in one of his moods.” He rolls his eyes and then drinks his coffee.
“Moods?” I try and act casual as I hold out the pot to fill my brother’s cup up.
I was going to rush out of here and go to my parents’ but now I decide to stay and use the time to learn something about the man who’s dominating my life in more than one way. He’s gone from taking over my fantasies just from a picture to taking over everything with his presence.
“Who knows? He’s one of the smartest men I’ve ever met. I’m sure it’s hard to get that shit to shut off. Most men would find a woman and…” He trails off as if I didn't know what he was going to say. Most men would fuck to clear their heads. I might be a virgin, but I’m not completely innocent.
“I’m not twelve, Brian, I get it.”
He shrugs as I lean my hip against the counter and drink my coffee. The thought of Jensen fucking another woman sends a spark of jealousy shooting through me.
“Speaking of you not being twelve, why don't you put on one of those jacket things over your dress.” He motions at me. I stare at him like he’s lost his mind. “The little jackets you have hanging in the closet.”
“A cardigan?”
“Yeah, that’s it,” he says and nods. “You should put one on.”
“No,” I say simply, turning away from him.
“No?” I hear him repeat from behind me.
“I know you’re not used to the word no, but let it sit for a second. You’ll figure it out.”
I do have some cleavage showing, but that’s mostly because of the weight I’ve put on. I’m extra curvy all over, but it’s nothing I thought to cover up.
“You’d be surprised,” he mumbles from behind me. I peek over my shoulder at him. Could it be a woman that’s got him acting strange?
“I look fine,” I say, trying to ignore him.
“Actually, your scar is showing and—” I realize he’s looking at me with sad eyes and I know what he isn’t saying. The sight of it would make my parents think back on everything. I’m the one always trying to make everyone forget because I want my life to be normal and for them to not treat me as though I’m made of glass. He’s right, though, because I never let it show. I completely forgot to put something on that covers it up. The dress cuts lower in the back than my others, and when I bought it, I made sure to get a jacket that matched, knowing I’d need it.
I put my coffee down on the counter and go get my cardigan out of the closet. Would Jensen treat me differently if he found out about the scar?
I pull it off the hanger and put it on to hide the scar from the world. It marks me, but somehow it marks everyone else deeper. Out of everything that happened that day, that’s what I hate most because I’m always treated with kid gloves. Jensen didn’t treat me that way and maybe that’s why I’m so drawn to him.
“This all the stuff you need?” my brother asks, breaking my train of thought on Jensen as he motions to the pile of stuff I’m taking to my parents’ house.
“Yes.” I glance around, making sure I’m not forgetting anything. It’s the first Thanksgiving that I’m not living at home and it feels so different.
“Something came up, so Jensen is going to try and meet us there,” Brian tells me as he checks his phone then hands me a bag. He grabs the rest of the baked goods I made and nods. “Let’s roll.”
“Is everything okay?” I ask as my heart starts to race.
What if he woke up and realized what he’d done and got out of here as fast as he could? Maybe he’s out blowing off the steam he hadn’t been willing to do with me last night.
“I’m sure it’s fine. He’ll probably show later.”