Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 109696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109696 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Alone.
I shouldn’t be this crushed. I’m a twenty-eight-year pro at being ignored, for fuck’s sake. My parents have been doing it since the day I was born. Throw in a husband who never once included me in anything. But none of those rejections seem to have mattered; at least they never felt like this. This stings, burns. I drop into his chair—it’s still warm from him, and for a second I want to curl into a ball and close my eyes.
“Okay.” I rub my forehead. I’m definitely punished, in fact, scarred might be the right word, and I need to pull my shit together.
My hand reaches to touch my swollen lips, his taste still in my mouth. The shower turns off as I wait.
The door opens and I sit up.
Power.
He’s like a mythical warrior. I can almost see him carrying a sword, cutting mortals down as they cross his path. Water droplets trail down his broad back. I wish I could lick them off him.
Christ, I’m losing it. I need sleep. My body feels like someone drugged me. Moving seems like a chore. I walk to the bathroom, watching as he completely ignores me, not even a glance as he stands there, texting. This is absurd. I turn on the bathroom light and lean against the shut door. I said I was sorry—that needs to be enough for him. Rip is a friend. Why am I justifying my actions to myself?
Because he’s right. Only in the fact that the moment I got on the back of Rip’s bike, it felt wrong. Now, did I know it was this bad? No. But, I’m learning. We’re worlds apart, yet when I’m with him, I feel alive. He takes away my worries, gives me security. Ryder makes me feel beautiful, special, with a mere look or a touch. He can also take all those feelings away because I’ve given him that power willingly.
He wants to mindfuck me? Fine, it worked. My heart feels like the tip of a knife has pierced it—enough to make me bleed, but not enough to kill me.
I go to grab the soap, only to realize I’ve already washed myself, maybe twice if my hands, which are pruning, are any indication of how long I’ve been in here. Turning off the shower, I grab a towel and roughly dry myself.
God, it wasn’t easy to show up here, do something completely foreign from anything I’ve ever done. Give up my control and…
Holy fuck. That’s what he wants. He has to know he has it. I mean, Ryder is smart and cunning. I quickly brush my teeth and open the door, only to be greeted with a dark room and Ryder’s back.
Perfect. I’ll never sleep. Not only is he shunning me, but my body needs him. I should have gotten myself off in the shower, but what’s the point? I want him, not my own fingers. I march over to his dresser and grab his pack of cigarettes. Though I quit a couple months ago, now that my life is in a total state of flux, I’m having one.
Trust.
It rings in my head. That’s what we both need. He wants me to trust him, but how can I do that if it’s all one-sided? I light the cigarette and turn off the bathroom light, letting my eyes adjust to the darkness. Moving to the window, I pull open the blackout curtains enough to look out at the night sky.
What did I think was gonna happen between us? Everything, nothing… That’s not true. I’m here because it’s time. I’m done with New York. My family is making it real easy to not even feel bad about that. But I do need to consider what my next step is.
Guess I thought Ryder would help me with that, or at least distract me long enough until life works itself out.
The sound of the lighter makes me turn. With his head propped up against the pillows, he takes a drag of his own cigarette. Moonlight fills the room, so I leave the curtains open.
“I know what you want, Ryder.” I walk toward him. Stopping at the chair, I gracefully sit.
“You don’t.” His eyes narrow on me like I’m some kind of creature he’s not quite sure what to do with.
Nodding, I take another deep inhale. When I cross my legs, he watches me, but his eyes show nothing.
“Trust.” I blow smoke at the ceiling. “You want me to give it to you.”
He inhales deeply on the cigarette but remains silent.
“The thing is, I gave it to you. I want you to have it, but since you’re so closed off, you can’t see it.” I’m grateful we’re in the dark with only the moonlight spilling in because I’m sure my face is on fire. This is a bold move, calling him out. But, let’s be honest. I can’t be tiptoeing around him. He wants my trust, he’s got it.