Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Something.
Anything to get out from under his amazing body and his gaze filled with slight worry.
But instead I find myself giving up a part of myself that stuns me because I would never give it up to anyone else in this world. Maybe it’s that we now share a bond growing inside of me, or maybe I just need him to know that I’m all kinds of fucked up. “I don’t know if I can do this.”
Luc’s frowns at me, even as his eyes soften with sympathy. “You can do this, and do you want to know how I know?”
I bite my lower lip and just nod, afraid to trust my voice.
“Because I said almost those exact words to Max the night you told me, and do you know what he told me?”
I shake my head, still biting my lip as I stare at him.
“He reminded me that I might not be ready for this, but he would help me get ready. My family and friends would help me get ready. So I’ll say the same thing to you.”
I can’t help the short burst of laughter that pops out of my mouth. “I don’t have anyone to help me get ready.”
Luc tilts his head and blinks a few times. “You have me. But what about your family?”
“No one,” I repeat, and he opens his mouth I can tell to throw out possibilities to me. I shut it when I say, “I have no close friends. My parents aren’t an option.”
With eyebrows raised, Luc asks, “Where are they?”
“Currently sunning in Greece,” I say in a flat voice. “No other family.”
“None?” I can tell this concept is foreign to him by the disbelief in his voice.
“I’ve got a few aunts, uncles, and cousins, but I don’t know them.”
“And no friends?” he asks again, because, well…that’s just pathetic, right? My face heats with embarrassment. I mean, who in the fuck doesn’t have at least one good friend in their life?
So I turn defensive because I’m not sure I can really explain why I can’t connect to people on a deeper level. “That’s by my choice.”
“But your lack of family isn’t?” he throws back at me.
“No, that’s not by my choice,” I whisper. “I was never given the choice.”
Luc drops his face closer to mine. “I don’t understand. What’s that mean?”
My eyes drop to his shoulder, as I’m unable to answer his question.
“Stephy,” Luc murmurs soothingly as his hand comes to my chin, tilting my face back so I look at him. “What’s the deal with your family? You can trust me.”
No one’s ever insisted on this information. I’ve been on plenty of dates or met potential new friends who are naturally curious, and talking about family is something that most people do. But the minute someone wants to know about my family and get close to me with that knowledge, I shut them down. I close off completely.
I was successful putting Luc off that day at lunch and I could easily do the same now.
But for some reason, the way those warm hazel eyes are leveled at me with a need to understand, makes some of the anxiety in my chest break loose.
So I decide to give him just a little something in the hopes it will make him understand my insecurities and accept the faults that come with them. “My parents are virtual strangers to me.”
“Why?” he asks, his voice raspy with emotion because he just got a taste as well of the flatness in my voice that happens when I talk about them. It’s the way I have to keep the emotional distance from the pain they’ve inflicted on me.
“My parents never wanted children,” I tell him, and his brows furrow deeply inward at my confession. “I was an accident, born to two completely self-absorbed, powerful, highly successful people who didn’t have time to devote to kids when they had to cultivate their success.”
“How do you know this?” Luc asks, and I can tell by the fury in his voice and the heat in his eyes that there was no way he’d ever turn his back on his child. He may have been scared at first, and he may be a playboy, but Luc is a family man for sure.
He’d never want to know that I’d sneak around our huge mansion and spy on my parents just so I could see them. How I witnessed them have millions of conversations with each other, and it was never about me. Or how when I’d done something bad, they would remind me of why they didn’t want kids. It was a common tactic they used to get me to behave, but all it did was make me act out more so I could be noticed.
I can’t tell him any of that because it’s almost unbelievable that two people who created the miracle of human life could be so detached and neglectful.