Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 133127 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133127 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 666(@200wpm)___ 533(@250wpm)___ 444(@300wpm)
I giggle. “Why?”
“Rebecca fell in love with me and I fell in love with her mother.”
I blink and stare. “Don’t tell me you…”
He pinches the bridge of his nose, shaking his head, clearly amused. “God, no.”
“You fell for her mum?”
He chuckles. “A bit. She was a total babe. Her name was Stephanie, and she was the focus of many a spank banking session”
I laugh out loud and slap his chest. “Brock. Who in the hell jerks off over their girlfriend’s mother?”
He shakes his head. “Right? Anyway, I kind of realised that maybe girlfriends and I don’t really mix.”
I frown. “Wait, so…? You’ve never been in love? Like, ever?”
He shrugs. “I was away with the Navy, and I was never in the same place for a long time. I got a bit…”
“A bit what?
“Detached, I guess.”
I smile as I lie in his arms. “We’re a great couple, aren’t we?”
He kisses my temple.
“I was too attached, and you were too unattached.”
“Until I met you…” he admits quietly.
I smile goofily up at him. “Do you believe in fate, Brock?”
He purses his lips as he thinks.
“I think I was meant to meet you when I did,” I whisper dreamily. “When the time was right.”
“You think you were meant to dump me the next day like you did, too, huh?” He shakes his head. “I was fucking cut up.”
“Exactly. If I hadn’t dumped you, I would have been just like every other girl you met in the past and you’d be long gone by now.”
He frowns as he listens.
“The only reason I got through to you was because I didn’t fall at your feet.”
He kisses me and pulls me close to his chest.
“You can fall at my feet now,” he whispers seductively.
I close my eyes and smile. I feel so safe in his arms. “I always do.”
Chapter 18
Brock is sitting on the floor with his back propped up against the wall while I lie with my head on his lap. We’re waiting at the airport and our flight has been delayed by three hours—not enough time for us to go home but just enough time to drive you crazy. Brock is looking through the photos on my phone, and every now and then he smiles as he looks at an image of me. I keep catching him sending them to his phone.
“Where was this? He shows me a picture of me and Callie.
“Vietnam.”
He nods and keeps scrolling.
“Why do you save all these motivational memes?” He smirks.
“To motivate myself.” I giggle.
He shakes his head and chuckles as he keeps scrolling through. I smile as I watch him. He’s learning about me from my photos, drinking in a little piece of me with every shot.
“Why do you take photos of menus in restaurants?” He frowns as he scrolls.
“So that I have all the menus handy and I can see what I want before I go there if I ever go back.”
His eyes find mine. “Or could just wait until you get there and see it then.”
“Don’t make fun of my quirks.”
He smirks and keeps scrolling, and then he frowns and looks up at me. “Why do you have this information on anger and anabolic steroids?”
Oh shit. ”Erm.” I frown, not knowing if I should I tell him why I saved that. “When I first met you in the gym I thought you were on steroids and that’s why you had anger issues. I thought you were having a ‘roid rage.”
“What? Are you serious?”
I shrug. “Well, you are super buff, and you were slightly scary.”
His face falls. “My anger scares you?”
I nod. “A bit.”
“Why?”
“Because you aren’t my Brock when you’re like that. I don’t like the person you become.”
He swallows sadly, and his eyes go back to the images. He doesn’t say anything, but I don’t miss the way he starts to play with my hair as he processes my words and pretends to look at more photos.
“You said that we could deal with my anger as long as I gave you another side of me,” he reminds me, his voice carrying a hint of hurt.
“I can, Brock, but you are no good to me in jail for murder, are you?”
He exhales heavily but doesn’t reply, and I know I’ve hit a nerve with him.
I think I may have hurt his feelings, but it had to be said. I have no choice but to always be honest.
We walk onto the staircase of the plane and are immediately hit by a wall of heat. “My God, it’s hot.” I sigh. The air is humid and steamy.
We are in Hawaii. Aloha!
Brock raises an eyebrow and grabs my hand. “Careful,” he says, gesturing to the stairs.
I look around and smile as we begin to walk down them. “Oh, look over there.” I point to a building we can see in the distance.