Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 85342 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85342 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
“This is true,” I say as I walk into the room, feeling like every single step I’m making is burning my feet. It’s fine, my head tries to calm my nerves down, it’s just Julia.
“You are the one who wanted to come in,” she reminds me as I get to the side of the bed, and I see another frame but this time on the bedside table next to me. I pick it up and it’s a picture of her with Jillian and her mom, taken at her sister’s wedding. “I’m not going to bite.” I look at her and she rolls her lips. “I mean, unless you want me to.”
I shake my head and ignore what she said. I also ignore the way my cock stirred thinking of her teeth on me. “This is nice,” I compliment as I sit on the bed with my feet off it since I’m still wearing my shoes. I look around and see she has the television mounted on the wall in front of her bed. “Feels homey.” I inwardly groan at how awkward my words are right now.
“You mean because it’s cluttered.” She points at the chair in the corner I didn’t see with a pile of clothes on it. I notice the lace bra hanging on the side of the chair. It’s baby blue, and if she wears it, there is nothing to hide.
“It’s not cluttered.” I shake my head and cross my hands, putting them over my lap so she won’t see my cock is fully hard. “It’s lived in.”
She throws her head back and laughs, and I look over at her. “Well, if you actually lived in your place, instead of just staying in it, maybe yours would be the same.”
I shrug my shoulders. “Maybe, but I’m not home long enough to do anything.”
“Yes, you are.” She rolls her eyes. “You just need to, I don’t know, unpack your shit.”
“I don’t really have shit,” I say honestly. “I have my clothes. I spent years living out of a backpack.” I look over at her, and with only the light from the television, I can’t see her eyes, and it bothers me. “Maybe, eventually, I’ll feel like I’m not just crashing there and it’ll look lived in.”
“Or, maybe you just need to find a place that’s yours and not someone else’s.” She points at me and I’m about to answer her when the phone rings from the inside of my jacket pocket. I jump up, grabbing it, and for some weird reason I expect it to be Max telling me to get the fuck out of her bed, but instead it’s the food.
“Hello.” I put the phone to my ear and whisper to her, “It’s the food.”
“I’m here with the food, but you didn’t put the apartment number,” the man informs me, and instead of giving him the number, I walk out of the bedroom and to the front door.
“I’ll meet you downstairs,” I say as I open the door and jog down the flight of stairs. I open the glass door and grab the two brown bags in my hand. “Thank you.” I wait for the door to click closed in front of me before turning and walking up the stairs.
“You need to just drop off the food and leave,” I mumble to myself. “You came and saw she is okay, sort of.” I walk up the stairs toward her apartment and my heart speeds up even faster than it did when I walked in the first time. I stand at her door for a whole thirty seconds before I grab the handle and open it up again. “Just drop the food and go,” I tell myself, but then I walk to the doorway of her bedroom and see she has turned on the lights in her room.
There is what looks like a tablecloth over her bed covers. “I don’t have the energy to eat anywhere else,” she admits to me, patting the cloth in front of her. Walking to her side of the bed, I hand her the bags. “What in the world did you order?”
“Burgers, and then they had the fried pickles I know you like.” She opens the bag and looks inside. “I might have also gotten some onion rings because, well, you always eat mine and they had curly fries.”
She looks up at me and smiles, and I know I’d order her the food every single day if it makes her happy. “I don’t eat all your onion rings.” I tilt my head to the side and raise my eyebrows. “Okay, fine, I let you order them in case I don’t like them.” She takes a container out, opens it, and squeals, “Stuffed mushrooms.” She puts it down on the bed. “Take your shoes off.” She looks at me.