Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 80495 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80495 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
“Careful.” Ignacia’s hand suddenly hovers over my head. Now, she’s the one who sounds protective. Her knuckles hit the top sill of the window, which would have taken off a good layer of skin if she hadn’t been there to urge me to duck down just a little further. “There.” Her fingers brush my bare arm, and my muscles coil and heave on instinct.
Is there any part of me that doesn’t want to be inside this woman?
What the fuck? Jesus.
The unfamiliar heat of a blush steals up my neck, and my stomach twists. I force myself to look at the moon, but the thing has nothing on the woman beside me. She rearranges herself, wraps her arms around her bent knees, and plants her feet hard on the shingles. They’re quite sticky. Sticky enough that they’ll keep us from careening down the incline and over the edge. Thank god.
I park my ass on the shingles as my stomach wavers. I’m usually not afraid of heights, but this seems like a straight ticket to a face-first landslide, eating grass, and getting all my teeth knocked out kind of trip to the dentist. I might have the money, but going to see a dentist isn’t my favorite thing in the world.
She looks right at me, doing that burn-a-hole-straight-through-my-head thing. I’m not focused on the moon or the stars anymore because they have nothing on her. I know I’m in trouble when I can’t tear my attention away, even when I want to.
“I know you’re not a narcissist or a chauvinist. And you’re not toxic. You don’t want to hurt anyone else,” she murmurs.
That can’t be out of left field. She’s picking up our conversation from two days ago. She’s continually looking for signs that I’m a good person or that I’m worth doing the one thing no one else should ever have to do for someone.
“I think you want to save people. It’s noble, but it can also be incredibly stupid,” I say in reply.
She doesn’t wince, even though that’s not my finest moment. I probably deserve a good swat upside the head. I’d suggest it myself if it wouldn’t throw her off balance up here on the damn roof. If I really wanted to keep her safe, I never should have come out here. I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t have a plan, and I’m not in control right now. This is more epically stupid than if I took a running leap off the roof, thinking I could sprout wings. The result is probably going to be the same.
“Let’s go inside.” One of us has to be rational, even if it’s not fun.
“No,” she says, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. The wind is blowing gently, but it might as well be enough to send a ship off. We’re on the damn roof. “I know I’m too tenderhearted. I can’t stand seeing people in pain. I always want to help. I don’t want to lose that and become hard and unmoved, but I know how it’s sometimes not a good thing. Look at Aiden. I knew there was something missing. I knew there was something wrong, but I didn’t listen to my gut. My blind care just enabled him to do what he did. But you? It’s different.”
“It’s not different,” I say firmly.
“Isn’t it?”
I feel physically sick. She’s reading too much into this. Into me. This isn’t real. I’m not who she thinks I am, and even if I were, I haven’t told her everything because I can’t tell her everything. It’s still coming, but she doesn’t know it yet. She still has some misplaced faith in me. Maybe some feelings. I can admit we’re attracted to each other. Fuck, we popped off like a barn burner, and the whole damn house could have come down around us the last time we put the sharing in sharing a bed.
The heart I’m so unused to using, the heart I don’t want to use other than for regular bodily functions like exercise and living and breathing, rattles in my chest, beating strangely. “No. And I don’t want to change. People can only be helped if they truly want it. I don’t.”
Her small, sad smile makes me want to take it back. It makes me want to be better and to turn around and get back inside to safety and haul her with me. Right now, she’s not looking at me like I’m her bodyguard. She’s not looking at me like I’m an asshole. And she should be. She’s actually studying my forearms, and she has that glossed-over, sensual look on her face. I can tell she likes what she sees. I know forearm porn is a thing, but this can’t lead to anything ever again.
“I think you might be lying to yourself,” she informs me in the gentlest tone possible.