Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 46202 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 231(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46202 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 231(@200wpm)___ 185(@250wpm)___ 154(@300wpm)
Would he be able to love him or her? Or would it be a constant reminder?
Stop. This is so not the issue right now.
Anna’s right. I need to focus on work.
“I guess I could send something formal. Just say Dad gave me his number, and I’m going to brainstorm some ideas over the next couple of days.”
“That sounds great. I think you should send that.”
I pick up my phone and stare at it, my belly is tied up in knots far more than it should be.
I’ve been doing well at my internship, not letting shyness hold me back, making friends, and speaking up in meetings. I was so freaking proud of myself just earlier today for how surprisingly well I’ve been handling everything.
It was like a stamp on my decision to seek an internship rather than go to college.
You’ve made the right decision. You can handle this.
But now, I feel like events have thrown me back several years, dragging up all that same self-doubt and confusion. I try to tell myself none of this matters. I’m not that person anymore.
“Okay,” I say, pretty sure my teeth will start chattering.
Now that would be an absolute melodramatic joke.
I type out the text, hoping it sounds formal enough.
And yet part of me whispers that he will be able to tell I’ve got secret feelings bubbling beneath the surface.
Hello, Damien. This is Danielle. Dad gave me your number. I wanted to say thanks for this opportunity, and I’m going to start brainstorming right away xx
I show the text to Anna. “Kiss or no kiss?”
“Well, you’ve got two,” she teases lightly, throwing me a humorous look. “But I know you want to kiss him way more than twice.”
I roll my eyes, acting like the comment bounces harmlessly off me, but I can’t deny the truth in her words. I can’t deny the way my lips tingle, as though getting ready for the kiss, the way my body aches as though getting ready for him to wrap his powerful arms around me.
“So?” I ask.
“I think to keep them,” Anna says. “You’re just being friendly.”
I chew the inside of my cheek, staring down at the message, then quickly remove the kisses. “It’s a professional message. I don’t think it’s appropriate.”
I click send, then place my phone face down on the desk. “I can’t look at it.”
But then I pick it up a second later, making both of us laugh.
“He hasn’t read it yet,” I tell her.
Anna grins. “Well, you did just send it.”
Placing my phone down again, Anna and I talk for a while. Soon it’s time for her to head home. She’s a freelance writer and can work when she wants, which often ends up with her working into the early morning hours.
“See you soon,” she says as we hug at the door. “And try not to drive yourself crazy. Remember. This is for your career. It’s a great opportunity.”
“Don’t worry,” I joke or try to. My voice has a telling tremor in it. “I’m not going to show up at his apartment in lingerie. I’ll keep my cool.”
But once Anna’s gone, I rush upstairs and grab my phone again.
My heart jumps when I see the word read, followed by a timestamp…only three minutes ago.
Three dots appear on the screen, telling me he’s typing a message.
I know there’s zero chance of it being romantic or sexual.
And good. It would split Dad’s world right down the middle.
But I still can’t stop thinking about all the possibilities of the text, as the three dots disappear and then flash again.
What is he writing? And why is it taking so long?
CHAPTER THREE
Damien
I sit on the edge of my bed in my underwear.
Back in England, my sleep cycle was pretty consistent. I’d be so tired from the TV show, the gym, and whatever charity work I’d done that day that it was easy to lie down and close my eyes, drift into a dreamless sleep, with no demons to chase me and no pain to tear through me.
But tonight, the second I closed my eyes, I saw her.
Danielle. My woman.
I can’t stop thinking of that photo on Max’s Facebook page, Danielle’s broad smile, and her luxurious brown hair. My palms tingle as though I’m stroking her hair now as if she’s here.
Where she belongs. With me.
My first message was one I could never send. It surged up inside of me as if it were from the howling primal place. The need to speed across the city, kick down her door, and drag her into my arms.
“You belong to me,” I’ll say, leaning down to her innocent kissable lips. “Only me. Forever.”
My first message was, Let’s talk about this in person. Are you free tonight? XX
I’d send her something much clearer if she weren’t Max’s daughter.
I’d come out and tell her I want her, need her, and she better not think about another man. Because the thought of her being with anybody else causes vicious flames to lick through me…the same way thoughts of me being with anybody else would.