Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 124574 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 623(@200wpm)___ 498(@250wpm)___ 415(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124574 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 623(@200wpm)___ 498(@250wpm)___ 415(@300wpm)
I swallowed the shiver and spent my energy on keeping my face blank. I was still trying to find the excessive strength it would take to pull myself from his strong arms, warm enough to chase away the worst of the chill.
“Sense of humor,” Polly butted in while I tried to get my bearings. “I approve. I don’t want to wear any form of black at the wedding, please. And make sure you pair me up with his brother, if he has one. I’d settle for a second cousin as long as there’s some family resemblance,” she continued, flopping down on my sofa and snatching the remote.
She squinted at the last still of the best movie on earth before giving me a look. “Breakfast at Tiffany’s? Really? Again? You know every line of that already.”
She turned it off and flipped through the channels of my TV.
I scowled at her. “By all means, make yourself at home. It’s not like I was in the middle of something,” I said through gritted teeth. I was still riding the high of what had just happened on that sofa, my body tingling from the touch, and I was still quite prepared to make decisions I’d likely regret in the morning. If my sister stayed much longer, I’d probably start getting sensible. I got that way around her. Someone had to be. Or else she’d likely land herself in trouble that she couldn’t get out of.
And I couldn’t get her out of.
Most of the time I didn’t mind it. Most of the time it amused me.
Right then, I wanted to wring her little neck with her dream catcher necklace.
She smiled sweetly at me. “I know you’re in the middle of something.” She waggled her eyebrows. “But delayed gratification is the best kind. Mom and Dad may or may not be angry with me for staying out all night, so I’m hiding in the bomb shelter to wait it out.” She glanced to the TV, deciding on Vikings.
Apt.
“Plus, you have the fancy TV with Netflix hooked up, and I’m hungry. Pizza?” she suggested.
I pursed my lips, taking a long and measured breath, holding it before letting it out in a steady stream.
Polly glanced at me. “What are you doing?”
“I’m thinking that yoga breathing they taught me at that class you dragged me to finally has a use—stopping me from murdering my sister.”
Keltan’s chest vibrated beside me, the sound and the movement of his muscles with it pleasing, despite my irritation. “It’s okay, Snow. I’m thinking pizza sounds perfect.” He glanced to the TV. “Plus, I love this show, and now I’ll get all the intel on you from your sister.” He winked at Polly.
She gave him a thumbs-up.
I glared at her. “Your loyalty lies with me. I’m your blood. Your only sister.”
She shrugged. “My loyalty lies with whoever gives me pizza. And the hot guy with the hot accent.”
I let out a frustrated sound in my throat that was so not like me. “You don’t even eat real pizza!” I half shouted.
Polly’s eyes widened slightly at my little outburst that so wasn’t me. I didn’t shout. Well, at least not often, or sober, and certainly not about pizza.
Keltan brought me into his body and kissed my head. “Chill, babe. It’s only pizza.”
I glanced to my sister, then to the chocolate eyes and the man whose arms I was in.
Who I was drowning in.
Already.
And he hadn’t even gotten to third base.
It most certainly wasn’t “only pizza.”
It was so much more than that.
“So,” I said, closing the door on the sister who I literally had to shove out. Before I’d threatened to tell Mom and Dad about her tattoos if she told them about Keltan.
Mom may have been somewhat of a free spirit and hadn’t batted an eyelash at me hanging out with outlaw bikers my entire life, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have some rules for her youngest daughter.
I was the practice kid, where they figured out what rules they needed for the main event.
That’s what I teased them with, anyway. But honestly, I was glad they were somewhat tougher on Polly than me. Even though she was almost twenty-one, she still lived with them while finishing her last year of college. Hopefully her last year. She kept changing her major as her boyfriend changed. For however long, she was with Mom and Dad. Under their roof meant their rules.
And because she was yet to hold a job for more than a month, she didn’t have a choice.
“You’re not running for the hills,” I observed once Polly was gone, turning to stare at Keltan who had been standing in the living room gathering pizza boxes. But now he was there, right there, in my space.
I backed up so my back pressed against the wall.
He stalked me.
Like a panther.