Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 147021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 735(@200wpm)___ 588(@250wpm)___ 490(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 735(@200wpm)___ 588(@250wpm)___ 490(@300wpm)
I should give her a task. Something to occupy her. Instead, I beckon her closer. “Come here.”
“What do you need?”
I extend a hand. “I need you to come here.”
She tentatively slips her fingers into my palm. The hairs on the back of my arms rise. This didn’t happen before the kiss, but now, every time we touch, it feels charged. Like we’re channeling an electrical current, but it’s calming at the same time.
Her hands are much smaller than mine, and she has long, slender fingers. Her nails are painted pale blue with little hockey logos. I tug her forward and part my legs so she can fit between them. It’s the wrong thing to do. I know this. I know I’m sending more mixed signals, but I’m powerless against her tears, and the sheer need to console her overrides the conviction that we should maintain boundaries.
“What are you doing?” she whispers.
“Hugging you, because I think you need it, and so do I.”
She nods. “I would like that.”
“Just careful of my knee.”
She closes the distance between us. I wrap my arms around her, and her hands settle on my shoulders, tentative at first. “This is okay for you?” she asks.
I nod and give her a gentle squeeze. My whole body relaxes with her in my arms. Having her so close is what I need. For a moment I almost believe we’re different people and this can be real.
She moves her arms around me and curls forward until her face presses against my neck. Her soft sigh wakes up parts of my body that have no business being involved.
It shouldn’t feel this good to hold her. Shouldn’t feel this right. But it does. I’ve hugged Aurora over the years. No…I’ve hugged Peggy. Celebrated her wins and consoled her over her losses. But this is different. It doesn’t feel like me consoling her. She’s a balm, a haven, something secure when everything else feels the opposite. I don’t know how to handle the shift between us. I want her, I want this, but there’s so much at stake. I’ve already made the mistake of giving my heart to someone who didn’t want it. She’s young. She might want me now, but in two years, five? What will I lose if she changes her mind?
“I was so scared,” she whispers, lips moving against my skin.
“It’ll be okay.” I rub circles on her back.
I don’t know how true that is, in any capacity. It feels like my life is unraveling. Everything I thought I knew is shifting faster than I can handle. I breathe her in, wishing she was five years older, that my career wasn’t hanging in the balance, that her dad wasn’t my best fucking friend. That I hadn’t pulled her into this deception. That I didn’t have the memory of that kiss.
That fucking kiss.
The taste of her. The feel. The desperate need to have more of it. All of it. All of her. I’m over here thinking about forever, and she has no idea how much baggage I’m carrying around.
The longer I hold her, the harder it is to let go, but eventually I pat her back and she takes the cue, putting space between us.
She wrings her hands, then crosses her arms, like she doesn’t know what to do now. “Can I make you something to eat?”
“I’m pretty nauseated from the pain.”
“A few crackers would help. You’ll get gut rot from the meds if you take them on an empty stomach.”
She’s right, and it makes her feel better to be helpful. At least that’s the excuse I make in my head. “Okay, yeah. That’d be good.”
A half smile tips the corner of her mouth and makes the dimple below her right eye appear. “I’ll be right back.”
I lie down and focus on breathing and blocking out the pain.
Aurora returns a minute later with buttered soda crackers. She slides another pillow behind my head to prop me up and pets Postie, who has come up to see if I have anything interesting.
“I have some stuff to work on. I could hang out with the boys in the living room for a while,” she offers when I’m done with the crackers. “And if you get hungry, I could make you something else.”
She did the same thing when I was injured last time—hung out with the cats, made me food, and took care of my laundry when I couldn’t. She dealt with my shitty attitude when I was depressed and dished out snark and sass to keep me from wallowing. But things have changed between us since then. Turning her away now will hurt her. And I want her here, despite it all.
“Yeah, okay, that’d be good.”
She smiles again, looking relieved this time. “Okay. I’ll be in the living room. Holler if you need anything.” She pulls the bedroom door mostly closed on the way out.