Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
She glances up from the computer screen. “Oh, that’s not from me. Ford dropped it off earlier this afternoon. I thought you saw it before you left for dinner.”
I can only stare as my heart hitches. Seconds later, an ache blooms in the center of my chest before slowly spreading outward. It’s tempting to lift my hand and rub at the spot.
He did?
That’s something he used to do in high school. Every once in a while, I’d find a paperback waiting for me on my bed. It was that kind of thoughtfulness that had me falling head over heels for him.
“That doesn’t really seem like something a guy would do if he’s just hooking up with a random girl,” she says softly, drawing my attention back to her.
Those words circle viciously through my head as I clutch the paperback to my chest. Unsure what to say, I clear my throat and avoid the questions that simmer in her eyes. “I’m, ah, going to bed now.”
“All right. Good night.”
“Night.”
Once in my room, I change my clothes and slip beneath the covers before staring at the book again. Almost reluctantly, I flip to the first page. That’s all it takes for me to get sucked into the story. This is a brand-new release from my favorite author. I’ve been dying to pick it up but just haven’t had the time with everything going on. Sure, I could have downloaded the e-book, but there’s something about the feel of a paperback in my hands.
After an hour or so, my eyelids finally grow heavy, and I set the book carefully on the nightstand before turning out the light and rolling over. If I’m lucky, I’ll drift right off to sleep.
Except…
That doesn’t happen.
Half an hour later, I flip over, hit my pillow a couple of times, and attempt to get comfortable. Then, I flop onto my back and huff out an aggravated breath as I stare sightlessly up at the ceiling. There’s too much circling around in my brain, and I can’t turn it off. Most of it has to do with my mother. Maybe I need to sit down with her and have an honest conversation. I can bring up all the reasons she took off in the first place.
It can’t hurt, right?
Now that I’ve come up with a potential resolution in regard to Pamela, I squeeze my eyes closed and try to fall asleep again.
But still…
Nothing happens. I’m wide awake.
It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that the other issue bothering me is Ford. Our situation was built on the premise of being straight-up sex. We knock boots a couple times and then go back to being frenemies who can barely tolerate one another.
I’m no longer sure that’s possible.
As much as I’m loath to admit it, my feelings for him have changed.
Flourished into more.
Or maybe they were always there, simmering beneath the surface, waiting for the perfect opportunity to break loose. I’ve tried like hell not to let it happen.
But it’s difficult.
So damn difficult.
My gaze settles on the dark stack of books piled next to the bed.
Especially when he does something so sweet.
The guy gets me.
And that’s probably the scariest thing of all.
It’s almost a relief when my phone chimes with an incoming message and knocks those disturbing thoughts from my head. I roll over and grab the slim device from the nightstand before glancing at the time on the screen.
It’s almost a surprise to realize that it’s well after midnight.
You up?
My belly swoops as I stare at those two words.
For a handful of seconds, my fingertip hesitates over the screen. It’s so damn tempting to respond. But if I do, I’ll become even more tangled up in Ford than I already am.
The more time we spend together, the more I feel myself falling for him.
And that’s a problem. One I have no idea how to solve.
If I were smart, I’d set the phone on the nightstand and ignore the text.
Instead, I type out a quick response.
Yes.
I’m coming over.
What?
No way!
That’ll only exacerbate the situation. What I need is distance. Time alone to get my head on straight. I can’t do that when I’m with him.
Just as I’m about to tell him to forget it, there’s a soft knock on the apartment door.
My eyes widen as I leap from the bed and race into the living area. It’s a relief when I find it empty. Juliette must have already gone to bed. Although, it’s possible she’s still up and studying in her room. I don’t want her to know that Ford is coming over this late at night.
I whip open the door and find him wearing nothing more than gray joggers that are slung indecently low across lean hips. My gaze unconsciously licks over the broad expanse of his chest and chiseled abdominals before dipping to the large bulge in the cotton material. It’s obvious that he’s not wearing anything beneath them.