Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 29429 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 147(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 98(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29429 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 147(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 98(@300wpm)
He's really okay with just leaving me behind? We haven't even been here an hour yet! I'm so annoyed by how willing he is to blow me off that I don't even care about the awkwardness anymore. I just want him out of my face.
"Fine. Go. See if I care."
He grins, looking once more like the guy I actually thought I could see a future with. Now I know it's just an act. "Thanks, Delia. I swear I won't leave you here too long."
In my mind, I know good and well it's a lie. But I don't want this argument to go on any further. "Yeah, okay. See you."
Brody puts the cigarette out and tosses it down the steps before giving me a quick kiss. I turn my head quickly and take it on the cheek. "Thanks for understanding, babe. Bye."
I'm still standing on the porch when he drives away.
I wonder if I can get Dean to drop me off at a hotel instead of staying here alone. Probably not. I look at the empty beer bottle and the half-smoked cigarette and shudder at how close I was to falling for Brody’s charmer act a few weeks ago. Even if he is an asshole, though, at least he’s an asshole I know.
But I’ve just allowed myself to be trapped with his hot-as-hell dad who looks at me with fire in his eyes. I might have made a big mistake.
I'm about to text Brody and demand the address of wherever he's going or tell him to come get me when the front door opens. Dean is standing there, a pair of faded jeans and a snug white t-shirt hugging him perfectly.
Damn.
"Everything alright?" he asks, looking at me and then at the place where the Soul had been parked.
"Yep. All good. Should we go?"
He doesn't look like he believes me. "Where’s Brody, Delia?”
There’s no reason to lie. I hate the idea that my words might drive a wedge between the two men, but I’m just telling the truth. Brody made his own decisions, not me. “He went out drinking with some friends I guess.”
Dean scoffs, unamused. “Fucking figures. I can still take you to get food if you want.”
I nod, giving him a bright smile, hoping to combat some of the dreariness surrounding him. "Absolutely. I'm starving, especially if I get to pick out some of the stuff and you agree to try it.”
He gives me a slow smile, and his eyes seem to darken. "Alright then, princess. Let's go."
His words shiver down my spine, and I try to do the responsible thing. "Don't call me that."
He raises one eyebrow. "Why not?"
"Because it's weird," I say, stepping back to let him pass.
Instead of walking inside, Dean moves closer to me and cups my face in his hand. The first touch of his skin to mine feels like a static shock, and I know it’s the same for him when he sucks in a breath. "You don't think it suits you?"
I never did before, but when Dean calls me princess…I melt and burst into flames all at the same time. "I think I'm a 21-year-old woman. An adult. "
"I can tell." His voice has gone husky, and his gaze has dipped lower. "An adult woman that I'd like to treat like a princess."
I should pull away, especially when his thumb slides over my cheekbone, but I just can’t. "You can't say things like that."
"Why not?"
My body sways towards him."I can't think straight when you say things like that."
He smiles, his thumb brushing the line of my jaw. "Good. I'd like you to feel off-balance because you do the same to me."
Oh god, please don't say things like that. My knees are already weak, and if I keep going like this, I'm not going to be able to walk.
"I'm not a princess," I whisper, and I can barely get the words out.
"I'll be the judge of that," Dean says.
Then he drops his hand and steps around me, leaving me a shivering mess on his porch.
3
DELIA
Once I get my shoes on and join Dean in the garage, all of the teasing he’d been showing me is gone and he's back to the grouchiness Brody insisted is his full-time personality. I know better, though. All this princess stuff and the way he touches me tell me there’s a different sort of man beneath that hard crust.
For now, though, he looks annoyed.
"What's wrong?" I ask. "I thought we were getting takeout?"
"I just got off the phone with Brody," he says, still not looking at me, arms crossed. "You didn't tell me he went out partying. I thought he just went to get beer or something."
"What's the issue?" Frankly, now that I've had some time to think about it, I'm not at all mad that Brody left. He was getting on my nerves anyway.