Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 46846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
Like, I repeat in my mind. He said like.
But it doesn’t do much to diffuse his words. It’s like he’s skirting closer to the thing I want to hear most.
“Maybe I would’ve been okay with that,” I murmur.
He nods. “Maybe. As I said, I regret it.”
“I probably would’ve frozen anyway,” I go on.
“Have you ever… you know, tried before?”
“Just after high school. I had a boyfriend for a couple of months, and obviously, he wanted to. But it never worked.”
“Worked?”
“Him, I mean…he had issues.”
“Ah, I see. I've heard that it happens to a lot more men than people think.”
“Has it ever happened to you?”
“Yeah, after you know…,” he says. “But I can’t imagine it happening when I’m with you. Just the thought of you has me so hard I feel like my dick’s going to explode.”
I laugh. “Now that would be a sight to see.”
“Why didn’t he try a pill or something?”
“He was too proud,” she shrugs. “We were never right for each other anyway. It was more like I thought I had to have a boyfriend, you know, instead of actually wanting one?”
“And you’ve been single ever since?”
“Yeah,” she says. “Single and a virgin.”
He reaches over, grabbing my leg. I moan as his hot palm burns through the fabric of my dress, into my thigh, whispering up my leg and over my sex, tingling and hot and driving me crazy right away.
“That’s exactly how I like you. Except for the single part.”
“What, you don’t want me finding anybody else?” I say with a joking tone.
He looks at me seriously, his intense eyes seeming to blaze impossibly fiercer.
“No, I don’t. In fact, you’re my girlfriend now.”
I laugh as delight and disbelief compete inside of me. “Oh, really? Just like that?”
“I’m not joking.” He tightens his grip on my thigh. “You’re my girlfriend now.”
“What if I disagree?”
He moves his hand slowly up my thigh, closer to my sex, making me shift around in my seat as I wish we were back in the bedroom.
“Do you?”
“No,” I say. “I’m absolutely fine with being your girlfriend. I just hope….”
“What?”
“It’s real. All of it.”
“It is,” he snarls. “I’ve sworn on Anna.”
Stop it, I warn myself as the words try to burst out.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, able to look at me closer when the traffic comes to a stop.
“Nothing.”
He removes his hand from my leg, staring firmly. “You’re lying.”
“Okay, it’s something. But this something just so happens to be the worst possible thing I could say. So please let it drop.”
“I can’t now that you’ve said that,” he mutters.
I swallow a big ball of nerves, hating this annoying word vomit habit.
But is that fair, blaming it solely on that?
Part of me needs to know. Really, all of me needs to know.
“It’s just…I always hear you speak about Anna. In interviews and in person. But never Rachael. I can understand the Rachael thing, with me…maybe it’s awkward. But never in public either. I mean, it’s none of my business, but….”
“No,” he says tightly. “It’s fine.”
“It must be difficult to talk about. Honestly, forget I brought it up.”
I imagine him screaming at me, telling me it’s none of my business, his handsome features warping coldly when he hears the way I’m speaking about the dead mother of his dead child.
Suddenly, he turns into a shorter cut-through road, drives right to the end, and parks beneath the shadow of a big tree.
The street is quiet this time of day, with only one person walking their dog from the other side, and the foliage is thick above.
I feel closed in but in a good way.
Like nobody can see us. Like we’ve slipped into our own private world.
He takes his hands off the wheel and sits back.
“It is hard to talk about,” he says. “But not for the reason you think.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Logan
Bryce’s voice is in my head again, yelling at me, telling me to stop before I ruin what we’re building. It’s not just the charity I’m risking but the donations that fuel the good we do.
But my public appearances aren’t the source of all the donations. And now that I’ve met Lucy, what are the chances I can return to that life?
Zero, fucking zero.
“There’s a reason I never talk about her,” I say, staring at the quiet street. The only pedestrian turns a corner and walks out of view. “I guess I’ve let people use their imaginations. It’s the most reasonable conclusion… I’m so heartbroken and devastated that I can’t even bring myself to say her name.”
“Yeah,” Lucy says softly from beside me. “That’s what I assumed.”
I turn to her, forcibly reminding myself this isn’t the time to devour her body with my gaze. My hand trembles as if trying to get me to grab her leg again, as I did while we were driving.
Her dress is all twisted around her thighs, messy, alluring.