Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 70376 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70376 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 352(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
“Okay.” I lick my suddenly dry lips. “Maybe I should just not say everything that goes through my head.”
“I like you sharing. Just . . . take it easy. All right?”
I nod.
“Good. Thank you. And now for the sex.”
“Again?” I whine and pout just because. Makes it hard not to giggle when his mouth latches onto one nipple and his hands starts creeping between our bodies, making for my vagina.
“You’re the one who wanted to get her experience levels up,” he says. “Don’t blame me. This is all your own damn fault. Like there aren’t other things I could be doing with my time right now.”
“Fine. But I’m very tired. Don’t blame me if I fall asleep.”
Which is about when he bites my breast. The man has teeth. Fortunately for him he also has a tongue to soothe the sting. Neither of us have any nightmares again that night. Though, to be fair, we don’t actually get much sleep.
CHAPTER NINE
“What is that look for?” I ask, stirring a spoonful of sugar into my coffee.
Mom continues giving me a sly smile. As if she’s super pleased with herself or something.
“Mother, explain yourself.”
She crosses her legs, getting comfy at the quiet corner table we scored at a busy café. We’ve already visited Clem and her boss, Iris, at Braun’s Books. Both Mom and I now own a healthy selection of romance novels. Considering it was Clem who gave Twilight to Leif to read to me while I was in a coma, the least we can do is support her awesome local indie bookstore. It’s been a nice day with beautiful warm weather. Perfect for wandering around town. I can’t remember the last time we did something like this. She and I spending time out and about that’s not related to the accident or some family gathering. Just being together. At least I don’t have to worry about her stabbing me in the back or anything like that. Mom is a much safer option than most.
“Oh, it’s nothing,” she says. “I just happened to be talking to Leif the other day is all.”
“I find it so disturbing that you two are friends,” I say.
She frowns. “Why?”
“Because he’s half your age, male, and a tattoo artist. For starters.”
“Nonsense,” she says with a wave of her hand. “Our differences just mean we have more to discuss and offer each other in the way of new experiences and altered perspectives.”
“Right. What does Dad say about your friendship?”
She gives me an amused glance. “What possible business is it of his who I’m friends with?”
“Actually, you have a very valid point there.”
“Our marriage is fine. He would hardly imagine I’m about to run off and have a wild fling now, would he?”
“I guess not,” I say. Though she does seem to be enjoying the attention of an older male not so covertly watching us from across the room. Everyone likes to feel attractive or special now and then, I guess.
“Admit it, you just don’t want to share your friend with me.”
“That makes me sound like a six-year-old fighting over a Barbie doll,” I say, somewhat put out.
Mom just looks at me.
“Fine. Be friends with him. I don’t care.”
“Thank you for your permission, dear,” she says, lips pursed. “There’s a special sort of bond that comes with someone willing to sit for hours at my unconscious daughter’s bedside and read to her. I have a lot of respect for that boy.”
“Man.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I do,” I say. “Carry on.”
“He was in a great deal of pain what with his arm, and he still managed to display more of a caring nature toward you than your husband managed in months of getting in the nurses’ way and generally feeling sorry for himself.” She pauses to frown at the memory. “At any rate, I was delighted to hear that you and Leif are doing so well.”
It’s been two weeks since he and I became intimate. Bed friends. Roommates with benefits. Sexual partners. Whatever. We work together, sleep together, and eat most meals together. We’re also having an insane amount of fun in and out of the bedroom. Proving that we can actually spend time apart, he’s having lunch with his family while I have a Sunday afternoon visit with my mother. While he did invite me to lunch at his parents’, I demurred. It’s too soon. Too big a step. What if they didn’t like me? Ryan’s mother only tolerated me at best. Though I’m not sure anyone would have been good enough for her golden boy. What if Leif’s parents met me and hated me and told him he’d be better off without me? I wasn’t ready to set myself up for failure in that way. To add that sort of strain to things. Besides which, Mom wanted to see the condo and where I work. It’s been nice to catch up with her. Until now.