Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 129460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
I hate the shame in her voice when she says, “My hair won’t grow through the scar tissue, so I wear wigs or hair pieces to give my hair more volume.”
The tension shifts to lust when I murmur, “I don’t know why. You’re the size of a pixie, so why not have a pixie haircut to go with it?”
Since I’m trying to think with my head for a change instead of my dick, I return her smile before washing out the conditioner coating her glossy locks. She doesn’t speak when I step her out of the shower to dry her with one of the fluffy towels on the shelf or when I carry her into her room like her short height means she can’t walk. She doesn’t murmur a peep until the clink of laughter outside breaks her from her lust-induced fog.
“He tried to rape her.” She locks her glistening eyes with mine. “He tried to rape my friend.” When a tear plops onto her cheek, she angrily scrubs it away as if ashamed of it. “And I slept with him after that. After he terrorized her.”
“You didn’t know what he did, and you’re not to blame for his actions.”
“But I should have known.” Anger burns up her tears. “The things he said after we…” She shudders. “He made me feel like a whore. Like I’d go to hell for wanting to experience desire.”
Her confession resonates with me more than I’ll ever share. My grandfather did the same. He hurt me, then blamed me for making him that way. That’s why I stopped using the bathroom. Because if he didn’t need to take me, he wouldn’t need to show me how to aim properly, then he wouldn’t have gotten pleasure from touching me.
He blamed me for everything, so I’m not shocked Warren did the same to Jess.
“Monsters can never admit they’re wrong even when every single thing they do is to hurt the people they care about.” Despite my clothes being drenched, I join Jess on her bed. “Don’t let his actions weigh down your conscience, Jess. We’re not responsible for the things that happen to us. Only the actions we do to others.”
I brush away her hair from her face, then trace the back of my hand down her cheeks to remove her tears. My mood is precariously balancing on the edge of normality, but when she leans into my embrace instead of repelling, the scales tip toward the positive.
“Scoot under the sheets. I’ll stay until you fall asleep.”
“You’re not… You don’t…”
Since I can’t tell her I can’t stay because I have stupid-ass nightmares, I gesture my head to the white duvet, wordlessly suggesting she slip under.
After a quick swallow, she does as requested, wiggles out of her towel, then rolls onto her side. Her faint giggles make the world feel right again when I wrap the duvet around her body to make her a human burrito before I mimic her position, except I lay on top of the bedding and remain clothed.
“You’ll catch pneumonia,” she murmurs through a yawn when a cool breeze blowing into her room from her partially cracked open window causes goose bumps to prickle my skin.
Although she’s giving me an excuse to leave, her scuttle across the bed to bring her face to within an inch of mine tells me she’s not ready to be alone just yet. She still has a lot to process, and although most people would rather do that in private, it is nice to have someone to fall back on if it becomes too much.
Her blinks lengthen when I brush my thumb across her exposed temple. You can see she is exhausted. Dark rings circle her eyes, and her skin is more pale than usual. She’s fighting to stay awake for my benefit.
“Sleep, Jessie. Anything you need to say can be said in the morning.” My words are whispers, but Jess hears them. Her lips curve into the faintest smile before her eyes slowly flutter shut.
Over time, the rise and fall of her chest slackens, and her breathing shallows.
It is a rhythmic, soothing pattern that soon lulls me off to sleep with her.
CHAPTER 20
JESS
Although my pounding head is demanding a few more hours of sleep, I can feel Caleb’s eyes on me. Just knowing he stayed with me all night has me more than willing to face the day with only a couple of hours of shuteye.
Excitement trickles through my veins when Caleb murmurs under his breath, “What the fuck are you doing to me, Jessie?”
I could pretend I’m sleeping, but where’s the fun in that?
“Not a damn thing without first consuming some form of caffeine.” My groan makes it seem as if I am hungover. “My temples are pounding.” I shouldn’t be surprised. I cried enough tears before Caleb’s arrival last night to dehydrate even a water-loving freak.