Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 115344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
“Not even a little bit.”
“You’re such a liar.”
He smiles and then presses a hard kiss on my mouth with his split lip. I move away from him, putting a hand on his bruised jaw. “Abel, not so rough. It’s going to hurt.”
“Not as much as not kissing you, Pixie. That hurts me more.”
So, he kisses me roughly, uncaring of his injuries, and I hold onto him, uncaring of the people around.
“Abel fucking Adams.”
We break apart at the call. For a second there, my heart stops beating. I’m thrown back into yesterday when the whole world was against us, and I tighten my hold on his t-shirt.
God, no.
I’m not letting him go. This time if they come, I’ll wrap myself around his body and fuse us together. In his eyes, I see the same thought.
Us against the world.
Abel leans down and places a dry, chaste peck on my lips. “It’s okay. It’s just Ethan.”
Then he puts his arm on my shoulders and hauls me to his side, completely belying his calm words.
Ethan’s striding toward us. He has brown wavy hair and smiling green eyes. His grin is easy and friendly like he’s been grinning all his life, and never had a reason to stop.
“Jesus Christ, I never thought I’d see you again.” Then he scrunches up his nose. “Though, man. What’d you do to your face?”
Abel laughs. “I took a punch like a man, instead of ducking like a girl.”
“One time, dude. One fucking time. Let that go, already. It’s been six years,” Ethan grumbles, shaking his head. Then he swings his eyes at me. “And who’s this pretty girl you haven’t let go of since the second I saw you?”
Oh shit. Abel should’ve at least offered a handshake to his long-lost friend but he hasn’t stopped touching me. I should probably nudge him forward but I hook my finger in his belt loop. I don’t think we can ever stop touching each other without an intense fear of somehow, being separated.
Abel kisses my forehead and introduces me. “This is my Pixie. My fiancée.”
My body warms up at the word fiancée. I flex the finger that holds his ring, claiming me as his. All through the drive up here, I played with the white ring, flicked the diamond. I wanted to kiss it over and over. I wanted to kiss him over and over.
I smile at Ethan. “Hey.”
“No shit,” he murmurs, completely astonished, staring at me.
“None.” I grin and decide to play the part of a fiancée and quit being needy, offering him my hand to shake.
He takes it, still watching me with curiosity. “That’s an interesting name. Pixie.”
I smirk up at Abel, who shrugs sheepishly. But before he can correct himself, I say, “Yeah. It is.”
Call it crazy, but I don’t want to correct my fiancé. I don’t want to be Evie anymore. I want to be Abel’s Pixie.
“Let her go, asshole,” Abel growls. “Unless you want me to get rid of your arm for you.”
Laughing, Ethan withdraws his hand. “Is he like this all the time?” Then, he ducks his head and stares at the ground. “Ah, okay. Not yet.”
“Not yet what?” I ask, frowning at the ground too.
“Nothing. Just wanted to check and see if he’s pissed a circle around you yet.”
I giggle, while Abel grumbles over me. “Just keep watching the space. He might one of these days.”
“Damn. I like her, dude.”
Blushing with pleasure, I look at my feet and Abel kisses my hair, murmuring, “Yeah, I like her too. A lot.”
New York is going to be awesome.
***
Ethan lives above a Chinese restaurant. The stairs leading up to his place are rickety, even more rickety and unstable than where Abel used to live until yesterday. But I’m not afraid as I should be. I know Abel won’t let me fall.
As soon as we reach the landing though, I pause, more like freeze. There are sounds emerging from one of the three red doors crammed together. Someone is moaning like they are in pain. It’s high-pitched and whiny, punctuated with grunts and squeaks. My eyes widen when I realize what they are. They are sex sounds.
Someone is having sex. Two someones. There are two sets of sounds, one masculine and the other feminine. Oh, and they are loud.
Whoa.
Shouldn’t they be like… less loud? Do they know we can hear them? Oh my God, is it coming from Ethan’s apartment?
With every question, I feel my heart racing faster. I feel my tired body waking up in so many ways. I’m a teeny tiny bit fascinated, and I’m a little bit… aroused when I hear the squeaking sound getting louder, and one moan merging into another, making it a constant needy sound.
Yesterday I was naked with my thighs wrapped around Abel’s hips, ready to give it up. Would I have sounded like that? Would the whole town have known that I was having sex with my Abel? Well, they already think that I did, didn’t they? They already think that I gave it up. That I became a whore because I spread my thighs for the guy I love.