Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 173796 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 869(@200wpm)___ 695(@250wpm)___ 579(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 173796 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 869(@200wpm)___ 695(@250wpm)___ 579(@300wpm)
The gentleness of his touch as his hands slid over me. The softness of his lips when he bent to kiss me. The way he held me, the things he whispered. His soft eyes looking down at me like I was… more.
Like I was worth something.
Tears spring behind my eyelids and my fingers grip onto him before I can stop them.
The sad part?
He grips me right back, pressing into my skin like he’s missed our friendship as much as I have, like he needed this. To hold me, to feel me close, when he was the one who pushed me away to begin with.
“Arianna…” he whispers.
His voice, it’s so low and gentle that I tear myself away, placing a few steps between us. It takes effort, but I bring myself to look up at him, and it’s as if he’s confused as to why I’d pull away.
He steps toward me again.
“Chase, I—” My eyes are pulled over his shoulder, my words dying in my throat.
That’s when I see him.
Noah.
He’s standing next to the gorgeous girl from the barbecue, Paige. His shoulder’s perched against the wall, a water bottle in hand while she leans her back against it, staring up at him with admiration.
He says something and she laughs, her hand lifting to shove him lightly and he smiles down at her.
A sudden sense of heavy falls over me, as if a weight has been dropped on my chest, forcing me to work harder for air.
Chase says something else, reaches out, but I don’t feel his hand if it’s touched me. I don’t hear his words, though his mouth moves in my peripheral.
I see Noah and all I can hear is Paige’s laugh echoing through my mind. Something stirs in my gut, low and repetitive. It doesn’t stop.
Chase follows my line of sight, landing on the frame-worthy couple not twenty feet away. His head yanks my way once more. “Are you serious?” he spits.
My eyes flash toward him, and his glare flits across my face in flustered snaps.
Chase jerks right, to block my view, but my arm shoots out, stopping him. His lips press into a firm line, his nostrils flaring.
I look back to Noah.
The moment I do, he glances over his shoulder. He spots me and he doesn’t turn away. He doesn’t glance toward Chase or the hand that’s still touching my arm. He doesn’t return his attention to Paige when her palm falls to his chest, creating heat in my own.
Why is she touching him?
Noah does, however, hold a hand out, those eyes never leaving mine as he excuses himself, and heads right for me.
I can’t keep my lips from twitching or my gaze from growing soft.
The tension in my muscles eases, but then Chase is gripping my arms, forcing me to face him. He stares, glares, and then he shakes his head, tearing his hands away.
Chase’s jaw clenches, and he focuses on everything, or anything, but me. “Find one of us when you’re… done here. Don’t walk around alone.”
“I know,” I say, but he’s already gone, and Noah is stepping beside me.
“Hi.”
“Hi.” He looks from where Chase disappeared to me, a tenderness in his gaze that has me smiling. “You didn’t come find me.”
“I didn’t know if you were home.”
The corner of his eyes crease. “Mason said he texted you for me, telling you I lost my phone.”
“I probably should have read those.” I chuckle. “I stopped looking after the fifth or sixth one came through.”
A small grin forms on his lips. “I was waiting around a bit in case Cameron showed. Figured it was better to ask her to call on her phone than it would be to ask Mason.”
“And if she didn’t show?”
“Then you’d be opening your door for me when I knocked on it.”
A low laugh slips from me, and I sway slightly on my feet, giving myself a moment to take him in, as if in search of a change in him from the last time I saw him. His hair is a perfect, silken mess of dark strands with freshly trimmed sides, and he’s ever flawless in a T-shirt and jeans.
No effort looks good on him, especially with the way his tattoo peeks from beneath the fabric around his bicep. It’s the textbook tease—not enough to show you what’s to be found, but just enough to lead you on the hunt.
I’ve never seen the full image, how far the dark markings travel, and I kind of want to.
I’m tempted to push his sleeve up now.
The hand on my lower back spans out, pressing into me more firmly as he nods, a tangled, yet contented expression blanketing his face.
“I thought for sure I’d have to head your way.” He speaks in a curious, husky whisper, his eyes imploring. If the spark that flickers within his gaze tells me anything, it’s that he’s pleased.