Total pages in book: 155
Estimated words: 145634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 728(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 485(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 728(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 485(@300wpm)
“Nothing to be sorry about,” I declare, but even as I say the words, I feel my heart squeezing in my chest with a pain that won’t go away. She starts to say something else, but I’m quick to put my finger to her lips, hushing her. “It’s alright, sweetheart.”
I don’t want to talk about what happened back then. I don’t want to think about all that shit.
Life’s different now. I may still be in this lifestyle, but I’m on top. And I need her now more than ever.
She didn’t know why I was so eager to get lost in her touch back then, and she still doesn’t know now.
I don’t need a reason.
I’m ready to take what I want.
And I want her.
CHAPTER 1
Emma
I take a look out of Sandra’s bay window at the light dusting of snow falling. It’s picturesque with the thick, crinkled, baby blue satin curtains pulled back, and a bouquet of white and red roses with baby’s breath in the center sitting on the windowsill.
It’s so beautiful here, back in my home town. It doesn’t snow like this down south where I go to school. Sometimes I wish I’d stayed up here. Although now that my parents are getting a divorce, it’s probably best I stayed away.
I sit back on my sister’s cream tufted sofa, the gorgeous fireplace roaring with life. A flat-screen TV nestled between the built-in bookshelves is playing the soft sounds of some real housewife show that happened to be on when I crashed on the sofa. At least I still have my sister. My parents never really seemed to love each other anyway.
It hurts. Even though I know they’ll be happier apart, I can’t help but wish they’d be happy together.
Sandra saw the bitter divorce coming. She’ll be happy if they never speak to each other again.
It sucks to think that way, that people who once loved each other should stay apart. I shift on my sister’s couch to get comfortable and try to ignore these gloomy thoughts.
It happens, and it’s for the best.
I roll my eyes, thinking about my last breakup. Breaking up with Michael was definitely for the best.
My heart squeezes a bit, not from missing him, but from the loss of a connection with someone. Some days I feel so alone, like I’m never going to have someone special in my life. I take in a deep breath and let out a heavy sigh, picking at my finger nails.
Closing my eyes, I remember how my mom told me she settled. I will never settle. I don’t want to end up like my mother.
I cringe inwardly at my thoughts, but it’s true.
I think I’ve settled with every relationship I’ve ever had, except my first.
If that even counts as a relationship.
I was scared to even whisper the word “boyfriend” around Derek. I counted each day waiting for it to end. I knew it would, it wasn’t ever going to last. He was my first in a lot of ways, but I didn't give him my V-card. If I could do it all over though, I’d go back and give it all to him. I’d strip down in a heartbeat in the back of his old beat up Honda and let him claim every inch of me.
How awful is that? Maybe it’s because with him, I didn’t feel like I was settling. I felt whole with him. I looked forward to our private moments in the back of his car after school. Sometimes I’d sneak out at night and go to his house. I’d creep into his backyard, and tap on the window to his room. He never made me wait long.
I think he really liked it when I did that.
I think he felt the same way about me.
But that was high school, and Derek was a bad boy.
I’ve always been a good girl, but for him I broke the rules. For him, I did whatever he wanted, and that was dangerous. Too dangerous.
I snuggle into the sofa and sigh softly, remembering the way he held me. As if my body was meant to be held by his.
It all happened so naturally. Day one, he took me home and I wanted to kiss him, so I did.
Day two, he called me over to his table in the cafeteria to sit with him during lunch, so I did.
I walked straight to where he parked that day after school and he was waiting for me. As if we’d made plans.
We didn’t have to talk about it. We didn’t need a label. We just fell into place.
I roll my eyes again and readjust the book on my lap. If only it could be that easy again.
I take another look around and try not to be jealous of how freaking beautiful my sister’s house is. She’s now a night nurse, and obviously making bank.