Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80562 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80562 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
“Shit,” I say, uncertainly rubbing my hand down her back. “Did I do this?”
She laughs, then snorts and sucks in a breath. “No. This is my fault.”
“What is?” I ask. I gently let her out of the hug so I can look at her. The sight of the tears still rolling from her eyes makes me feel like I’m about to split in two, though. “Whatever it is, I can help. Just… stop doing that, please.”
She laughs again, wiping at her eyes. But her humor is quickly replaced by what looks like so much pain she can hardly bear it. “There’s something I haven’t told you,” she manages after calming her breathing a bit.
Jesse was right. Jesse was right. The words start repeating in my brain as mental alarms screech. Red Alert. Defcon Four. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
But no amount of terror is worth making Caroline feel any worse than she clearly seems to feel. So I plaster a neutral, calm look on my face and hope to hell it’s convincing. If she knew how much I was freaking out inside, she’d probably start crying all over again.
“If you never forgive me, I’ll–” she says, cutting herself off as her voice breaks. Fresh tears roll from her eyes.
“Hey,” I say, pulling her in and kissing her because it’s the only thing I can think to do. Her lips are salty from the tears. She shudders against my touch, and another quiet sob shakes her. I cup her face gently. “Walker is mine, right? That’s what you’re trying to tell me?”
More tears come. She nods shakily.
“It’s okay,” I say, hugging her tight and shushing her. How am I supposed to be mad at somebody holding this much regret and pain? What kind of monster could do anything but try to comfort her right now? My own feelings can take a back seat, at least for tonight–at least until I find a way to calm her down and stop her from beating herself up like this. “It’s okay, Caroline. I get it. I’m not mad.”
“You’re not mad?” she asks. She seems stunned enough that it has stopped her crying for the moment.
“I’m not mad. I mean, shit. I’m surprised, sure. But I’d have to be pretty dim-witted not to suspect it was possible, right?” She doesn’t have to know I didn’t suspect shit until about thirty minutes ago when Jesse planted the idea in my head. Or that I’m taking this a hell of a lot better because I had that half hour to go through the initial shock on my own.
“Yeah,” she says, laughing and nodding. “I knew you weren’t stupid. But… I meant to tell you. So many times. And then there was the press conference, and I didn’t want you to think of me like you thought of that woman, so I made up some guy because I freaked out and panicked. There was never any other guy. It was only ever you. For the last two years, it has only been you.” The words come out in a rush from her like water breaking from a dam.
“It’s okay,” I whisper. I kiss her cheek, then her earlobe, and then I find her lips again. “It’s okay,” I say, kissing her more.
I can feel myself shutting off my own flood of emotions. So much wants to break through into my mind, but it’s like when I’m on the ice–when my teammates need me to step up in a big game. Sometimes, the team needs their leader to show confidence, even if he’s not feeling it. Caroline needs calm right now. She needs reassurance. I can worry about me later.
It doesn’t hurt that my body has been wanting this for what feels like an eternity. The feeling of her body against mine again. The way she sounds when she comes for me. The heat of her breath against my bare skin. I’ve craved it all so fucking deeply.
So I kiss her deeper, softly pushing her back until she’s lying on the bed beneath me. There’s one way I can think of to get both our minds off this.
“Jake, I don’t know if we should…” she whispers.
“I need your mouth,” I say, trailing a fingertip down her shoulder to her chest until I can feel the soft swell of her breast through the thin t-shirt. “I need to feel you again. All of you.”
She grins. “It has only been a year.”
“365 days too many,” I breathe.
“Last year was a leap year. So it would actually be 366. Although, technically, it hasn’t been exactly a year. It’s more like–”
“When I said I wanted your mouth,” I say, cutting her off with a fingertip on her lower lip. “I wasn’t talking about those sounds you’re making.”
Her hand trails down my back and lifts her eyes to mine. There’s mischief glinting in them. “So you want to sleep with me but don’t want to hear me make a sound? That seems like a fun game.” Her eyes are still puffy and red from crying, but I’m glad to see the physicality is already distracting her from the guilt she feels.