Fighting to Breathe Read online Aurora Rose Reynolds (Shooting Stars #1)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Contemporary, New Adult, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Shooting Stars Series by Aurora Rose Reynolds
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Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 63100 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 316(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
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“I’m happy for you. You deserve good things,” I tell him quietly as my chest burns. His head turns my way and I see hurt in his eyes that has me swallowing over a lump in my throat. I want to ask him for forgiveness, but I don’t want to ruin the progress we’ve made by bringing up the past. Plus, there’s a deep fear that he won’t forgive me when I do apologize.

“You do too, Lea,” he says quietly then opens his door, gets out, and then turns around, placing the upper part of his body into the cab. “Wanna come see what I’ve done?”

“Absolutely.”

“Slide on out this way, babe,” he tells me. Instead of asking why, I scoot across the long seat then set my legs out the door so he can help me down, which he does with his hands around my waist, his body so close to mine that I can feel every inch of him as he lowers me to the ground.

“They’re working on the kitchen now.” He leads me up a set of stairs onto a large deck, where I stop at the top, just so I can take in the view. Even though the view at Larry’s office is nice, this is ten times better.

“It’s more beautiful than I remember,” I say, leaning into the rail in front of me then tilting my head back, letting the sun warm my skin, and the smell of the ocean and sounds of the birds take over my senses.

“It is.” I turn to look at Austin and his eyes are on me. There is something there; it’s different than anything I have seen before, but no less special. “You want the tour?”

I nod, unable to speak, and follow him into the house through a set of sliding glass doors that lead right into an open kitchen. The floor plan is open, giving you a view of the entire first floor, except for what’s behind a few closed doors. The cabinets are all white, and the walls are a dusty blue that sets off the backsplash of multicolor tiles in shades of beige, brown, and blue. The countertops are rustic looking granite, with large veins running through it, and separating the kitchen from the living room is a long island, which is big enough to sit six comfortably.

I make my way slowly from the kitchen into the living room, where floor-to-ceiling windows frame the view, a view that is exactly as I remember it, so many years ago. The ocean is just feet away, and on each side, large pieces of land jut out into the water. The view alone would sell this house. I could see big, oversized couches with large throw pillows in this room, surrounding the fireplace that has rocks of different shapes and sizes, making it look like someone went down to the water and gathered them by hand. I would spend hours in front of that fireplace, with a book, or just a blanket wrapped around me while I enjoyed the view.

“The bedrooms are upstairs.”

I pull my gaze away from the view and follow him up a set of stairs that blends in with the decor seamlessly, until we reach the second floor landing. The area is open, with another great view, and a pathway that leads to one door on one side and three on the other. I know without asking that the side with the one bedroom is the master, and follow behind him as he opens the door. The space is empty and has two windows, with not a view of the sound, but a view of town from above. Not as breathtaking as the living room, but amazing in itself. It almost gives you a feeling of being the ruler of the town below.

“The bathroom in here is one of my favorite parts of the house,” he confesses.

“Really? If I lived here, I would spend my days downstairs in front of the fireplace,” I inform him without thinking.

He smiles and mutters, “But you haven’t seen the tub.”

When the door of the bathroom opens, I’m awestruck. The large tub sits high in the room, with stairs leading to it, overlooking a window with a view of the sound. Off to the side is a glass-enclosed shower, so if you wanted to watch your partner take a bath while you showered, you could.

“Okay, I would spend my time between the two.” I smile, walking up the three steps, and then stepping down into the tub and leaning back.

“Figured you’d like that.” He grins leaning against the door jam and I smile back, while something inside me coils deep, causing pain. I will never have this. There will never be a time when I would be taking a bath and Austin would come in to shower, or when I would ever be able to laze on the couch downstairs by the fire, watching the ocean, waiting for him to get home. This isn’t my life, and I know deep down it will be someone else’s. Austin had grown up while I was gone, matured, became an even better man, and there would be someone who’d fight to be with him, someone he would fight to be with.


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