Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 56771 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56771 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
“I may not be home until late. I might not see you again today.”
For a second, I think he’s speaking to me. I keep my gaze forward, every inch of my body suddenly tingling, ready, sore.
Just a dream…That’s all it was, like after Mom.
Another dream. Jeez, what if it was? No, no, no.
“I wanted to say I love you, Rosa.”
“I love you too, Dad.”
Without looking at him once—I’d melt in the morning sunlight—Leo leaves.
Rosa butters some toast. “Was it me, or was he acting weird?”
No, not weird. What are you talking about? Completely normal.
That’s what I almost say, but that would give the game away way early. God, I hate that there’s even a game.
“I don’t know,” I say.
I lie. It’s already started, lying to my best friend, and I can’t even tell myself I’m just paying her back. What I did—what I want to do—is way worse.
“I got you a gift,” Rosa says after breakfast. “Before you ask, I bought it before yesterday. It’s not a guilt buy.”
Together, we go to her bedroom. Posters of famous writers and poets cover the walls. Virginia Woolf takes pride in the place above her cluttered desk.
Rosa opens the desk drawer and takes out an envelope. When I see my name written with such care, with a small heart lovingly colored next to it, I almost tear up. I almost confess everything. Maybe it would be easier to believe it was a dream.
“Open it,” Rosa says excitedly.
It’s a voucher for an online course, Intro to Accounting.
“That’s the website you looked at before, wasn’t it?” Rosa asks doubtfully when I stare at it. “The one you mentioned on Skype?”
“Yes,” I say or try to.
It comes out as a garble half-word. I almost break down again. I push it away and force a smile on my face. She doesn’t deserve this moment ruined because of what I did, or maybe that’s just a sick excuse.
“It’s amazing,” I tell her. “Thank you so much.”
“It will give you something to do,” she murmurs. “You know, while we wait…”
“For the war to be over,” I laugh shakily. “I feel ridiculous saying that.”
“I’ve wanted it to be a dream since it started.”
There it is again—dream, just like last night. I almost want to smooth my hand over my ass to ensure it’s still stinging from his spanking.
“When did it start?”
“Right around when you left or the month after. That’s why I was acting so sus. I’ve had to have escorts to and from college. Otherwise, I hardly ever leave the house. If I was ever clingy, I think that’s why.”
“Hey, you can never be too clingy with your best friend.”
“Still, I am sorry. If there was a way to tell you—”
“Seriously, don’t worry about it.”
This is killing me. Rosa’s face has so much genuine concern as if she hates herself for possibly risking our friendship. It’s like she’s going to start screaming at herself for it while I keep having to shift position because my ass is stinging.
The tingling sensations feel good. They should feel anything but that. I hunger for it again, his hand spanking down, the glint in his blue eye, a fierce wolfish sparkle, and his brown eye staring obsessively.
We’re eating, so luckily, I don’t have to talk for a bit. I try to tell myself this is like when I was a teenager and felt the first tickling of a crush. I could push it down and not think about it and, therefore, not let it grow. I’d cut off my emotions and my hunger.
“What are your plans for the day?” I ask after way too much time has passed.
Maybe that’s more paranoia. It’s not like she’s counting the seconds between each flash of conversation. I hate all these new elements I’ve added to our friendship, concerns we’ve never had before. Not me, him. He was the one who started it. Crap, she just answered me. I’m not focusing.
“Sorry?”
“I’m going to work on my essay. It’s about The Odyssey.”
“Are you enjoying it?” I ask.
She tells me all about her essay, and that’s enough for me. I can stare at my friend and do my best to listen to her words while forcing down the other voice inside me, which says I need to find Leo and stroke my hands down his chest or stare at his huge manhood again. Okay, no frame of reference for me, but his hand didn’t even cover half of it, and he’s got big hands. Big fingers, too. God, I should be grossing myself out.
“What about you? What are you going to do today?”
“What can I do?” I ask.
She flinches, which is fair. My response is only one step removed from asking what I’m allowed to do.
“Work on your course? You’ve got your laptop. Maybe call Dave?”
“I was thinking of that last night. I typed out a message asking for help, explaining everything about the mob, the war, the kidnapping.”