Total pages in book: 216
Estimated words: 206530 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1033(@200wpm)___ 826(@250wpm)___ 688(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 206530 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1033(@200wpm)___ 826(@250wpm)___ 688(@300wpm)
I check the phone. It’s a text from Daniel. Where you at, bitch?
Dylan is looking over my shoulder and he can’t hold back his disapproving growl.
I jerk my head to look up at him. “He’s just a friend, and that’s how we talk to each other. No jealous bullshit.”
Dylan swallows and then nods.
I text back: Mr. Tall, Dark & Sexy showed up. Catch you later next week?
The response is almost immediate. No words, just three eggplant emojis.
I roll my eyes and Dylan snorts as I drop my phone back in the side of my bra.
He picks up his phone and then, his fingers still interlocked with mine, he opens the door and leads me back through the club. I don’t bother trying to find Daniel in the flashing lights that pierce the dark every so often. Chandelier is huge and Daniel’s not the kind of guy to be in want of dance partners.
Besides, I’m still a bit shaky on my feet. I’m putting on a good front for Dylan but everything tonight was… intense, to put it mildly.
I’m glad when we get out of the club and into the quiet cool of the night air, and even happier when, one Uber ride later, Daniel’s guiding me up the front steps to my house.
He hesitates after I put my key in the door and flip the lock.
“Can I—? I’d like to come inside.”
I bite my bottom lip and give a slow nod as another wave of relief washes over me. He’s not running. Maybe… Maybe this thing between us really could be something different?
“Jesus it drives me crazy when you bite your lip like that,” he says, reaching behind me to turn the doorknob and shove the door open.
The next thing I know, he’s walking me backwards through the foyer.
We only make it to the couch and he’s inside me before he’s even kicked off his shoes.
“Jesus Christ,” he swears, his jaw clenching above me as his head tips back. Dear God, he’s the most magnificent man I’ve ever seen. His five o’clock shadow is dark and it only makes the perfect cut of his jaw more dramatic.
Then he looks back down at me and his bright, blue eyes are full of so much emotion I feel like I’m looking straight down into the heart of him.
“What are you doing to me, Miranda?” he asks, and I see the confusion mixed with wonder on his face as he slides gently, so achingly gently in and out of me. “I’m no good for you but I can’t stay away.”
I reach up and cup his face. “Don’t. Don’t stay away.”
I might have been questioning everything earlier, but he came back. And he’s here with me in this moment, sharing all of himself
“I won’t,” he whispers, leaning down and brushing his lips over mine, inhaling me. “Because apparently I can’t.”
I lift up to meet his lips and stop his teasing. He kisses me back the way I love best. Devouring me like I’m the single most important thing in his universe.
And this is how I know he’s nothing like Bryce Gentry. When I’m with Dylan, instead of feeling worthless, I feel as cherished as if I’m his everything.
My eyes blink open groggily at the shout. I sit up in bed and flip on the bedside lamp.
Just like last time, Dylan’s tossing and turning in the bedsheets. He’s having another nightmare. My chest squeezes at seeing him in such obvious pain.
“Chloe!” he cries.
My chest cinches again, for less noble reasons. Who is Chloe? She obviously means a lot to him.
“—kill you. I’ll–fucking kill you!” The words are somewhat slurred in his sleep but they’re clear enough for me to make them out. And I can hear his fury. His murderous rage.
I scramble back off the bed and stumble to my feet as I call out, “Dylan.”
His body jerks but he doesn’t wake up. “Fucking kill you!”
“Dylan!” I shout. “Wake up!”
When he still doesn’t wake up, I reach over and grab my pillow, then lob it at him. “Wake up, Dylan!”
He gives another shout and then shoots up to a sitting position, looking around him in confusion.
Then he sees me standing several feet away from the bed and it’s like I can see the blood drain from his face. He jumps out of the bed, the opposite side from me, and backs up until he hits the wall.
“Dylan.” My voice is trembling. “Who is Chloe? And what happened to her?”
He reacts like I slapped him.
“You were talking about wanting to kill someone.”
I regret the whispered words as soon as they’re out of my mouth because it’s like I can see him shut down in front of me.
His face goes blank as he reaches down for his pants.
“Stop it!” I run around the bed to him. “Don’t fucking do this again. Don’t run.”