Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 134133 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 671(@200wpm)___ 537(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134133 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 671(@200wpm)___ 537(@250wpm)___ 447(@300wpm)
I don’t have class on Friday, but Silvan has to head to campus for some meeting of some club he’s in. Once he’s dressed and ready to leave, he climbs back into bed with me and locks his arm around my waist, pulling me back against him.
I’m still sleeping, but I don’t object to a quick cuddle before he goes.
“After the meeting, I’ve got some loose ends to tie up before we leave for the weekend,” he tells me.
“Mm. Okay.”
His free hand slides down to grab my ass. “Sleep all you want, but when you wake up, pack a bag for the weekend. Bring your schoolbooks if you have homework to do while we’re there.”
“When will you be back?”
His hand slides around and he presses his warm palm against my smooth stomach. “I’m gonna drive up ahead of you so I can set some stuff up. I’ll send a car for you.”
If I were more awake, I might have questions. I thought we were going to drive up together, and it’s a long enough ride that I’m surprised he’d send me with Hugh instead.
But he kept me up half the night, so I’m sleepy, and the room is so dark, the bed so comfy...
My eyes get heavy. I fade out for a second but wake up to feel Silvan’s lips pressed to the corner of my mouth. “I’ll see you tonight, pretty girl.”
“Mm. See you tonight,” I murmur, dragging my pillow closer and cuddling with it since he won’t be in bed with me anymore.
“I love you, Sophie.”
If I were more awake, I might find that odd, too.
Silvan loves me, but he doesn’t say it all that much. He doesn’t say the words out of habit, repeating them so many times they lose their meaning. He only says it when he feels the genuine need to tell me he loves me.
___
Silvan has bought me lots of pretty clothes since he barged into my life and took it over, but for the car ride up to New Hampshire, I want to wear something cute-verging-on-sexy but also comfy, and I can’t find what I’m looking for in any of the new stuff.
I have most of the clothes I didn’t pack strewn across the bed, but I end up digging out an outfit from high school—the before times.
I had this cute mini skirt the color of red wine with a dark textured overlay that I used to wear all the time. It was my favorite skirt, but since it was my favorite skirt, I’d worn it out with Dylan a couple of times and caught him looking at my exposed legs a little too long. Before that night, I didn’t care that much. I was used to the male gaze landing on me. It didn’t bother me.
After that night, it did.
I benched the skirt for the rest of high school, but I brought it with me to college since I had these big dreams about college being different, about me being different and getting comfortable in my own skin again. Surely, I could at least reclaim a favorite article of my own clothing.
Silly Sophie.
Still, it’s a really pretty skirt and I always felt beautiful in it, so I guess it’s a good choice for a romantic weekend away with my boyfriend.
My tummy flutters.
That feels weird to think.
I dig out this great pair of brown boots I also bought in high school that look so cute with the skirt. They have a low heel, so I don’t wear them a ton, but they’re comfortable enough, and since we’re going to some house Silvan’s family owns, it’s not like I’ll be walking in them a ton, anyway. Probably just from the car to the house, and once Silvan sees me in my whole outfit, I’ll take the boots off since we’ll be inside.
I wonder what the house is like.
Big, probably. He said they take hunting trips there, so probably lots of land.
I need to finish getting dressed so I can get out of here.
I zip up my skirt and turn in the mirror to check my reflection as I smooth down the material. The skirt rides low on my hips and I grab a soft V-neck T-shirt that’s cropped so some of my stomach shows.
Since Silvan has gone to the trouble of setting up a romantic getaway for us this weekend, I want to at least put in some effort. I so seldom do, and he never seems to care, bless him.
I grab a lightweight navy-blue jacket and pull it on over my cute outfit, then I pull my blonde hair out of the coat and let it hang free. I look myself over in the mirror and think I look super cute, so with a smile and one last glance around the bathroom to make sure I’m not forgetting anything, I head for the bedroom to grab my bag so I can get downstairs and meet Hugh.