Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 136025 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 680(@200wpm)___ 544(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136025 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 680(@200wpm)___ 544(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
Farrow takes a tight breath. “What are you saying?”
“I’ve been fucking stubborn, but I’d rather be stubborn with you than without you.” I’m more assured than I’ve ever been. “I’m not standing in my own way anymore. You’ve given me the courage to move.”
His eyes push through me. Into me. Excavating parts of my soul that belong to him.
He’s wanted more, and I said no out of a moral obligation to protect his privacy. I’m finally ready to let go. I don’t want to drag us down when a greater happiness is in reach. All I need to do is move towards it.
So I say, “I know your life will drastically change if we go public. I know the media will hound you. I know your job will be harder. I know there’s a chance it could fuck everything up, but I’m willing to take that giant risk with you and only you.”
Farrow rubs his mouth, and his overcome smile lights my core. “Damn.”
My pulse is racing. “So that’s a yes?” I need to make sure he hasn’t changed his mind.
He doesn’t look away from me. “It’s always been a yes.” We draw towards one another, no longer stopping, and I take out my phone.
He notices the cell, understanding what we’re about to do.
And Farrow cups my face with one hand. I grip the back of his neck. Our mouths a breath apart, he whispers, “Ready, wolf scout?”
Unequivocally, fucking wholeheartedly, yes. I commit a thousand-and-one percent, and our mouths meet, the sweltering kiss zipping through my veins and scorching me. I clutch his hair and remember to click a photo.
He nips my lip, fuck me. God, it takes all my energy to lean back, to part for a second. My pulse thumps hard, breath knotted and wanting for more. Deeper and longer. Farrow holds my waist, and we both train our eyes on my phone.
In the picture, his tattooed hand clasps my sharp jaw and my hand grips his black hair. Chest against chest, our eyes stay closed and our lips are pressed together in a cinematic-worthy embrace.
It’s too affectionate to be called fake.
I already know what to type in the Instagram box. When I finish, I angle the phone to Farrow. Making sure he’s alright with this before we upload.
His smile stretches, and with one more glance at me, he presses post.
Instantly, our photo pops up in the feed. Only three words beneath the picture. Three words that announce we’re a couple. Three words that I’ll never forget. Three words that’ll change everything.
Lovers Like Us.
His hand returns to my jaw, mine to his neck, and we fucking kiss again. And again. My muscles pull taut, burning for more, and his smile rises against my lips. My back digs into the barrel, and I’m holding him in a strong grip that pulls his firm body against my hard chest. Our breath hot and shallow.
The garden explodes with buzzing. Pinging notifications. Texts and calls.
People realize what’s happened, but I’m not looking. I’m not watching them.
We’re in our own world.
Our own universe.
No one can have it. No one can break it.
This moment belongs to us.