Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 282(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 282(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
She shrugs. “Gah, how could I not? I’m so sorry.” She puts her hand on the arm of her chair. “I should go.”
“No. Stay. Talk to me.”
She doesn’t move because there’s a knock at the door.
“Come in,” I call out.
I stand up as my driver walks into the room. He has a drink carrier with four different drinks in one hand, and he’s holding a bag in the other.
I block his view of Haven and take everything from him. “Thank you, Callan. That will be all.”
He gives me a little smirk and then turns to walk out the door. I set the items on the table. “You want water, juice, soda, or a shot of whiskey?”
For the first time, a smile plays on her lips. “You had him bring whiskey?”
I return her smile. “Yeah, it calms the nerves.”
“Yeah, but I need to drive home. I’ll take the water, please.”
I pull the water out of the cup holder, put a straw in it, and hand it to her. Very briefly, our hands touch, and my whole body reacts to it. I keep my eyes focused on her, and there’s no hiding the fact that she felt it too.
I turn away to hide my smile and pull the rest of the items out of the bag and then hold the candy out to her. “Here you go.”
Her mouth drops open. “You got me orange slices?”
Fuck, if she’s going to react like this, I’d buy her the candied slices every day just to see her face light up like it is right now. “Yeah, do you like them?” I ask her, when in fact, I know they’re her favorite. I did my research on her since I saw her the other day, and after stalking her social media, it was easy to figure out some of her favorites.
She takes the bag from me. “I love these.” As she rips open the bag, she continues talking. “When I was growing up, my mom always had these around the house. She didn’t buy food or anything else we needed, but she always made sure to have these.”
I try to keep my face free of judgment even though what she said makes me want to take her in my arms and hold her until she forgets all about her past. It doesn’t help that it is one that I can relate to in a way. I was a foster kid, and I know what neglect feels like, but I try not to think about it. I like to think I put it all behind me. All the neglect, abuse, sad times, all of it. That’s why I worked so hard to make something of myself. I had to prove I was worthy.
She puts a candy in her mouth and chews it as she watches me. It almost feels like she can hear my thoughts by the way she tilts her head and looks at me.
I sit back down in the chair and rest my elbows on my knees. “Can you tell me what happened?”
She keeps chewing, and I continue. “Did I do something to cause it?” I know I should feel guilty for doing this. I have no business posing as a cuddler. I researched it and got the basics, but in no way am I prepared for this. But even knowing that, I had to do it. I knew I couldn’t get close to her any other way. All I can do is hope she forgives me when the time comes.
She tries to reassure me. “It wasn’t anything you did.”
“I don’t believe you. It started when I closed the door. Do you have trouble with closed spaces?”
She shakes her head and grabs another candy. “No, never,” she answers before taking a bite.
“Is it because I’m so much bigger than you?”
She smirks. “You’re really not that much bigger than me.”
I almost argue with her, but I decide against it. If my size doesn’t bother her, then there’s no point in drawing her attention to it. But something set her off, and I need to know what it is so I don’t do it again.
She’s about to get another candy but changes her mind, folds up the bag, and hands it to me. “Take this from me. They’re addicting.”
“You can have the whole bag.”
She shakes the bag at me. “Take them. I don’t need the whole thing.”
I take them from her and set it on the table before turning back to her. “So… panic attack… are you feeling better now?” I hate to even say it, but I force the words out. “Do you feel like continuing?”
She seems to think about it, and I’m holding my breath waiting for her answer. “Yeah. I was a little shaky, but the candy helped.”
“What do you want to get out of cuddle therapy?”