Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 84322 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84322 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
When my hips stilled, the room came back to life.
I heard how heavy I was breathing, saw how mussed the sheets were all around me, how every other pillow on the bed was on the floor except for the one still perched between my legs. My panties stuck to me, completely drenched, and I rolled onto my back with my chest still heaving, pressing the heels of my palms into my eyes until I saw stars.
“Jesus Christ, Jasmine,” I cursed myself on a whisper, shaking my head. I was supposed to be forgetting Tyler. I’d spent the whole night with Jacob, reminding myself of why I needed to let go of the past, of the fantasy I’d built in my head.
Of the possibility of us.
It seemed my sex drive and my conscious were on two completely different pages.
I sighed, shaking my head and climbing out of bed to clean myself up. After a short, cold shower and a fresh change of clothes, I crawled back into bed having convinced myself that it wasn’t a big deal.
So what, I masturbated thinking of Tyler. People masturbated to things they couldn’t have all the time — to porn, to visions of their exes, to celebrities, whatever. It was completely normal, and it didn’t mean a damn thing.
Somewhere between that thought and me slipping back into sleep, I thought I heard a thump against the wall lining my headboard, and a groan of a man giving into temptation.
But I was sure it was just a dream.
The next day, my tornado of a best friend transformed into a full-on hurricane.
From the moment I peeled my heavy eyelids open and found her sitting on the edge of my bed with a fresh mug of tea, she was going full-throttle — talking over plans, going over lists, finalizing this, revisiting that. She stayed glued to my side even as I brushed my teeth and got dressed, not bothering to put on any makeup or do anything with my hair now that we were at the beach house. And after we skipped downstairs, it was time to get to work.
The biggest part of me appreciated the distraction. I’d spent the evening locked in my room on FaceTime with Jacob, catching up on his week and telling him a little about mine. I needed to reconnect with him, and after three hours on the phone, you’d think that mission was accomplished.
Instead, I tossed and turned most of the night with a sinking feeling in my gut that told me nothing would ever be the same now that I knew Tyler Wagner once wanted me the way I wanted him.
And my little midnight romp with my pillow seemed to drive that point home.
I told myself as Morgan and I worked through her to-do list that it would all come in time. Once I was back in California, back with Jacob and away from Tyler and New Hampshire and everything that made me think of that other life I could have possibly had, I’d be fine again. It was just the scenery playing tricks. It was nostalgia.
Completely normal.
To hammer that nail in, I threw myself into every task Morgan laid out for me. Packing up the welcome gifts for all the guests and placing them on their beds for when they arrived? Check. Double-checking the catering order for the big pre-wedding beach day? Check. Helping her finish up her vows and making them shine? Check. Anything she needed, I was her gal, and it was a blessed escape from the dungeon that was my brain at the moment.
The morning bled into the afternoon, and then into the evening, and as the sun sank lower in the sky, the entire bridal party met on the small stretch of beach where the ceremony would take place. Morgan wanted to have the rehearsal and rehearsal dinner before any of the out-of-town guests came in so that she could spend time with them and relax in the days leading up to her wedding.
And so, here we were, lined up on the dock overlooking a gorgeous Cape sunset.
It wasn’t a dock over water, but rather one situated in the sand. The wood neck of it stretched all the way from the lower bottom of the house behind us, where the bridal party would make their entrance.
I smiled at the small touches, of which I knew there were plenty still to come. But already, the dock looked fresh and new, the teak wood absolutely stunning against the sand and backdrop of the sun over the water. There was a beautiful gazebo at end of the wood aisle, and I could already picture the chiffon and flowers and twinkle lights that would don that arch in just four days. On either side of the dock was lush, brown sand, ready for the guests to be seated. It was a toes in the sand wedding, as the planner had put it, which fit the bride so perfectly it made my heart pinch.