Total pages in book: 142
Estimated words: 135522 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135522 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 678(@200wpm)___ 542(@250wpm)___ 452(@300wpm)
Noah Reed, I’m fucking falling in love with you.
Chapter 17
Noah
Cole sleeps peacefully in the bed, cuddling a pillow I suspect he thinks is me. His lips hang slightly open, in danger of spilling drool at any moment.
Yes, I find it adorable.
Especially because just an hour ago, we were making out.
It was the heated kind of making out, too. We couldn’t get our clothes off fast enough. Except for a sock. So we made out as one of his socks clung to his foot for dear life. He went down on me as I gasped for air. Then I returned the favor as my fingers dragged down his back. We were like animals. By the end, the sheets were halfway on the floor and he’d lost a pillow.
And now he’s dreaming.
And I’m wide awake, sitting on the end of the bed, unable to sleep for some reason.
It was such a sweet night we spent together before things got fun and frisky between us. I gave him a shoulder massage while he sat up with his laptop to answer those questions Tamika sent him. I gave him my two cents, helping him think through his answers, giving him pointers on what she’s looking for to include in the big interviews that will go out. Some of the answers we came up with made us laugh, and we’d quickly stifle said laughter, as everyone else in the house was apparently asleep—including his grandma in the other room, who was still recovering from the tail end of a flu she allegedly picked up at the crafts festival. One of the questions in the interview asked about the lesser-known important things in his life, and of course he went on about his dear Nan. He has been on top of her for weeks helping her recover from the flu, making sure she’s checking her temperature, checking to see if it’s been four hours so she can take another Tylenol—“We’ve got to bring that fever down, Nan,” he recounted saying to her every day. And he described how she peered into his eyes and said, “Oh, you’re so dang adorable, lookin’ after me the way I used to look after you.” Just telling the story brought a tear to Cole’s eye, which surprised me, seeing such emotion come out of him talking about his Nan. If it wasn’t for his precious dog Porridge and his loving grandmother at his side, he’s not sure how he would have made it through his life so far. He owes so much to both of them.
My heart swelled the entire time he filled out the interview, like I was learning even more about Cole than I thought possible, just with a glimpse into his emotional eyes.
Sitting by him now as he sleeps, I find myself gazing down at him, wondering if there even is an end to his compassion.
I reach out to touch him, then stop and withdraw my hand, not wanting to disturb his sleep. He’s the one who really needs his rest lately, especially with the event coming up so soon.
It’s hard to believe it’s almost already here.
On the nightstand nearby sits an orb-shaped nightlight, which slowly rotates through a rainbow of colors. Cole is turned away, so I watch as his bare butt cheeks go from red to pink to orange to yellow to lime green to teal to vibrant blue to magenta and back to red. I watch for a while, wondering why sleep’s eluding me.
I suddenly wonder if he got that nightlight for me. Of course, it’d also be just like him to get one for himself so he can practice sleeping with it on. It’s not unlike the one I have plugged into the corner of my own bedroom by the closet door. This is probably just another of his ways to make me feel comfortable and at home, no matter where we are.
Cole is just endlessly thoughtful like that.
I can only hope to be as thoughtful and considerate back.
And soon, the whole of Spruce and every neighboring town is about to know these facts just as well, that Cole is truly Mr. Picture Perfect.
I rise from the bed and pull the sheets over his naked body, up to his shoulders. He doesn’t budge as I tuck him in, sleeping deeply and soundly. I put on my underwear, plus a pair of loose shorts and a t-shirt he lent me, then slip out of the door.
A short walk through the dark hallway and living room brings me to the kitchen. I feel a sense of natural unease, thanks to my discomfort with the dark, but I push through as I quietly inspect each of the cabinets for where the glasses are kept. There are only so many cabinets to check, yet I keep finding myself at the same one next to the fridge, baffled, no glasses in sight.