Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76381 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76381 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
I wasn’t sure, had it been me in their shoes, that would have ever occurred to me.
I mean, they were women from very different backgrounds. A poison expert, a martial artist, and a weapons designer. But still. It said a lot that they understood what I needed, and gave it so effortlessly.
I’d expected them to, well, pry, to ask me for all the ugly details of what had happened to me. And, sure, I understood that I would need to talk about that to someone to help me process and move past it, but I really loved that they hadn’t poked at what was already a raw wound.
Riff came back half an hour later, loaded down with all of Vernon’s things, setting them around the room, then looking over at me.
“I see you’ve had company.”
“Just Nyx, Morgaine, and Murphy,” I explained.
“They brought gifts?” he asked, eyeing the mug on the nightstand.
“They mostly brought weapons,” I admitted.
He seemed nonplussed by that information, though, as he came over to bring me the other bag of my books. “That sounds about right,” he said, picking up the item Murphy had given me, pressing the button, and nodding.
“It also does this,” I said, extracting it from his grip, then moving a few feet away to swing it open.
“No shit. She’s always got something cool up her sleeve,” he said, reaching toward it.
“Don’t touch it!” I squealed, pulling it backward. “It’s sharp,” I added at his stricken face, like maybe he thought I thought he was going to take it from me, disarm me.
“Yeah?” he asked, squinting at it. “Shit. That looks lethal,” he declared. “Nice. We gotta get you a purse to keep this kind of shit in,” he told me. “I’ll dig out my laptop for you to do some browsing on later,” he offered. “But dinner is ready, so I came to ask what you wanted.”
From below, I could hear a chorus of male laughter. At least three or four people, I had to guess. The sound made the cramp start in my stomach again, and had my throat feeling like it was closing up.
“Can I eat in here?” I asked, voice choked.
“Of course you can,” he said. “I’ll take this down for you, if you want,” he said, inspecting the coffee cup. “I can bring you up a cup of coffee with dessert.”
“Thanks,” I said, feeling some of the anxiety sliding away.
Things were just… easier with him nearby.
I didn’t know just how easy, though, until many hours later when the house finally quieted down, but I found myself tossing and turning for the third hour in a row, unable to sleep, it seemed, without him nearby.
The part of myself that had once been so strong and independent bristled at that realization. But the part of me that was traumatized and scared had me climbing out of the bed, grabbing Murphy’s weapon, and slipping the band on my wrist before climbing into Colter’s robe, and making my way to the door.
I glanced into the hallway first, looking, listening. But I heard nothing but the distant sounds of televisions and low music, so I quickly made my way to the stairs, rushing down them almost at a run.
Because when Riff had been leaving my room after bringing me my dessert, I’d heard Raff offering to let Riff sleep in his room earlier. But Riff had said he’d crash on the couch in the living room.
And, well, if he was okay with sleeping on a couch in the living room, maybe I could convince him to sleep on the one in his room instead.
“Riff?” I whispered as I closed in on the couch, not wanting to startle him. But he was out cold. “Riff?” I called again as I rounded it, stopping short at seeing him lying there, his upper body bare, the outlines of his muscles evident even at rest.
Did he always sleep without a shirt? Had he been wearing one just for my comfort during the road trip?
That was… unexpectedly considerate.
Even as I thought that, my gaze seemed to dip, finding him in a pair of navy blue sleep pants. That were doing nothing to hide the fact that he was… having happy dreams.
I expected complete and utter panic.
And while my pulse did speed up, I wasn’t convinced it was in fear.
But it couldn’t have been anything else.
I forced my gaze back up to his face.
“Riff?” I called, voice a little louder. Then, desperate, “Reid!”
He woke up with a jolt, body tense, eyes unseeing for a second.
“Vienna?” he called, slow-blinking at me, sleep clearly still clinging to his mind.
Then, coming fully alert with a widening of his eyes, he knifed up into a seated position, folding forward to hide the proof of his desire.
“Are you okay?” he asked, voice tense.
“I just… I can’t… sleep,” I admitted, feeling flustered all of a sudden. “I was just wondering if you would… never mind,” I said.