Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 129110 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129110 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 516(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
Asher is holding me even though it’s a fast song. Although it's more like an embrace. Our bodies are pressed tightly together, and like when he fell on top of me I feel all of him. He knows it too.
He doesn't move.
Neither do I.
The thudding makes it feel real.
Maybe it's because I have limited to go by lately, but this is intimate, and far more than anything I've ever felt with anyone before.
I need to feel what it's like to kiss him just once.
He has one arm wrapped around my back and a hand on my hip, caressing. His fingers rub a trail of circles along my panty line through the fabric.
It's electric.
His security guard lingers, making sure we stay private.
I feel Asher inhale deeply a couple of times, but neither of us has yet to actually say anything. I think we both fear the moment will be ruined, and yet at the same time it's like we're waiting to see where it's going.
Something is building - this thing that's happening between us. It's escalating and it's either going to break or I am.
I need to know that I'm not imagining this.
“I hadn’t heard from you in a month.” I bite my tongue, punishment for how clingy I sound and how I popped our little bubble.
“I know,” he deeply exhales. “I was taking care of things. Got busy."
“I hope you didn’t mind then that I reached out.” As I say the words he's already shaking his head.
"Honestly, it was the best thing that happened since you left my hotel room that day." His breath tickles my ear and my heart speeds at his words.
Judging by the way he pauses I think he can feel it too.
“I wanted to call you," he swallows. "Hear your voice. Most of the time to tell you something completely bonkers, like the burger I ate wasn’t nearly as good as the one I had with you. Or to make some stupid joke, or hear what you had to say about something,” he nervously laughs. "I thought you would think I was crazy for doing it. Over such miniscule things."
“Not at all,” I smile, feeling his mouth stretch too.
“Actually I was going to text you right after my TV appearance but you beat me to it.”
“Liar.”
“Swear!” He stops swaying and pulls back, but leaves his hands on me, gripping them tighter. “I told myself if I didn’t hear from you by the time I got Stateside it would be the first thing I do. Then my plane was late so I had to wait until after the taping.” He bends to catch my eye in a deep stare.
“A month was too long,” I confess. “I was beginning to think I made it all up.”
“I know,” he somehow pulls me even closer, his chest vibrating as he sighs.
“I mean we’re friends, right? You never have to worry about what you say to me.”
He sighs another deep exhale.
“What if what I want to say isn’t very friendly?”
I swallow hard as he lowers his hands, and as another upbeat song plays we continue to dance slowly.
8
She Doesn't Remember
It takes me a minute to adjust to the brightness. As soon as I do I realize I’m in Jess’s apartment.
I have no idea how I’m awake right now.
Or how I got here.
After a certain point last night it all blends together. The last thing I truly remember is dancing with Asher. The rest is a blur.
I’m still in my coverup-turned-dress. I lean over Jess to check the clock, but accidentally knock it over. Jess mumbles and I quickly grab the wire to fish it up.
Shit! 10:00 am!
I jump out of bed. I'm supposed to make a 1:30 brunch at my parents’ house all the way upstate. I promised I wouldn't be late. Last time I was guilt-tripped because I hardly visit. Frequent brunches and timeliness was what we settled on.
Your brother barely sees you. He misses you. Dad and I are only getting older. We don't know anything about your life (they do).
What she meant to say is we're not happy with your life choices.
Ugh.
I nudge Jess and she gives me a dirty look before turning over.
“Have fun on your trip! I’ll text you,” I whisper, already halfway out the door.
When I get back to the apartment Travis is on the couch.
Pissed.
No, more like fuming.
“Where the hell were you last night?” He’s towering over me by the time I fully get inside.
My head hurts. I’ve reached the point of hungover where I wish I could just vomit already.
Scratch that.
More than anything I wish he would stop talking. The noise is too much.
“Jess’s,” I grab my head, hoping to stop the spinning.
“I texted you,” he hisses. “Multiple times.”
I pull out my phone and stare at the blank screen.
“Dead,” I mumble, turning it around to show him.