Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 97073 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97073 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Back at the cottage, I’m unloading bags out of my trunk, all the things I just bought in Kendal. Meanwhile, Summer stands just to my right, leaning in to grab the heaviest bag.
“Here, let me get that,” she says.
“I’m fine.”
“But—”
“Summer.”
My tone is harsh enough that she freezes and moves away with her hands up. “Right, okay. You’ve got it. Clearly.”
I walk around her with the bags and stomp into the house. Presumably, Andrew is having a driver bring him up from Leeds. The trip takes two hours, which means by my count, Summer and I have another hour and a half to kill before he gets here.
Kill. There’s a word I like.
Clearly, I’m not handling this well, but there’s good reason for that. Try as I might—and I have tried—there is no getting around the issue that I want Summer. I want her every second of every day.
My head has been a jumbled mess lately, ever since the night she let me kiss her. Well, no. That discounts everything that happened before. If I’m being honest, this all started the very first day Summer arrived at my cottage, broken suitcase and all.
Fuck me.
I’ve been so restrained with her, as restrained as possible. Last weekend, she let me touch her and taste her and—
It was heaven. Laying Summer down in front of my fire, feeling her respond to my every touch was more than a little dangerous; it was ludicrous. I should have had more sense than to take things too far with her. While I can delude myself with the notion that it’s all okay because we didn’t have sex, it doesn’t matter. I felt her in ways I shouldn’t have. I saw her, the fragile, beautiful girl naked before me, and I’m so hungry for more I’m surprised I can even look at her without pulling her against me and taking everything I want.
As far as I know, this is all one-sided. I have no clue how Summer is feeling about us because she and I haven’t talked about it. But going off of the fact that the morning after she and I fooled around, she tried to escape on my bicycle, injuring herself in her attempt to get away from me, I’d say she’s not looking for a round two.
Even if she were, I know better. Just because I want Summer, doesn’t mean I can have her.
But I’m beginning to feel like it’s already out of my hands. I stare at her too much. I notice everything about her. Every time her lips curl into a smile, every time her eyes alight with conviction while we argue over a plot point, every moment I have to sit across from her at my kitchen table while we share a simple meal—there’s a fire burning inside me. Can’t she tell? Can’t she see what I’m doing a poor job of hiding?
Bloody hell.
Sure! Let’s let Andrew come over. That’s just fucking great. I’d love to meet the boyfriend!
Yes, boyfriend. I know Summer said she and Andrew are on a break and I believe her about that, but no guy hops on an international flight for a girl he has lukewarm feelings about. Andrew wants Summer. Now the question is, what does Summer want?
Inside the cottage, I sling a bag down onto my kitchen counter with a bang and realize I’ve got to get a handle on my temper. Summer comes in through the back door quietly, like she’s treading on thin ice, scared of me all of a sudden. I’d be scared of me too.
“I really appreciate that you’re letting Andrew come here.”
With my back to her, I can squeeze my eyes closed and count to three before I respond with a cavalier shrug. “It’s fine.”
“You’ll like him, I bet.”
Ha, bet I won’t!
“He’s nice,” she adds.
It’s taken a herculean effort to keep my cool the entire drive back from Kendal, and I need a break. “Why don’t you go make sure there’s a spare towel for him upstairs. I assume he’s staying in your room?”
Say no. Say he’ll be on the couch. Or better yet, out in the shed. I can get him some hay to sleep on. Jesus slept in a manger, so can Andrew.
“Oh…I hadn’t thought about it, but I guess so. The daybed would probably fit us both.”
Of course I immediately imagine them in bed together, pressed close.
“He’s allergic to cats though, so I should probably put Cat in your room if that’s okay.”
Cat’s usually in my room all the time anyway, or he was pre-Summer.
“Sounds good.”
She eyes me suspiciously as if she knows that’s just a generic automated response. I’d better mix it up with a well-timed “Whoa, that’s crazy” or “No way” so I can throw her off the scent of my feigned indifference.
Not that it really matters; I’m not staying much longer. I won’t be here for their reunion. I don’t want to see it. I haven’t chopped firewood in a week and we’re running low so I could go out and do that, but for now, I think I’ll head into Sedbergh and see if Alice is at the shop. If she’s not, I’ll go to the pub.