Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 21888 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 109(@200wpm)___ 88(@250wpm)___ 73(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 21888 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 109(@200wpm)___ 88(@250wpm)___ 73(@300wpm)
She smelled good, like my happiness and memories that wrapped up in this euphoric sensation I always felt when I was with her.
“I love you so fucking much, Lenora. Not seeing you or talking to you this half a year has been hell. And I only have myself to blame.”
She wrapped her arms around me, and I shuddered, my body shaking slightly, because it felt so damn good to have her close.
“I love you too, Beckham.”
I was a big man, strong and powerful. I wasn’t afraid of anything, didn’t back down when challenged. Men were afraid of me, because I had confidence, because I didn’t let anyone fuck me over. But this woman… this woman could bring me to my knees faster than anything else on this planet. Only this woman had any kind of power over me.
I leaned back and cupped her cheek, smoothing my thumb right under her eye, feeling how smooth her skin was, how warm she was. I dipped my gaze down to her lips, not wanting to cross lines but feeling so vulnerable and bare right now that I couldn’t stop myself.
“Do you know what I mean when I say I love you, Lenora?” I asked softly and tore my gaze from her mouth to look into her eyes. I saw her pupils dilate, heard her breathing increase. Was it arousal? Was it shock? Either way, she didn’t push me away. She let me hold her, touch her. “Do you really know what I mean when I say I love you?” She shook her head slowly, although I could see the lie in her expression. She knew. “It’s not the way I should love you, probably. But I can’t stop myself.”
She took in a stuttering breath. “Beckham?” Her voice was so soft I almost didn’t hear her say my name.
“And I know you’re probably wondering how I could say those awful things to you when I’m madly in love with you. How could I have hurt you the way I did, when you’re the only woman I want?” I swallowed the thick lump in my throat. She didn’t say anything, but her expression spoke loudly. What I said penetrated her deeply. I ran a hand over my jaw, feeling a day’s worth of stubble covering it. “And I don’t have an answer to that. All I can say is it was in the heat of the moment, my father’s pain consuming me. I lashed out at the wrong person. God, Lenora. I am so fucking sorry. That day will be the biggest fucking mistake of my life. My one regret.” I looked into her eyes, pleading without saying anything in that moment. “And I don’t need you to love me back. I just need you to be in my life. I’ll take whatever I can get.” I was desperate for her friendship, for her in my life.
I just hoped it wasn’t too late.
Chapter Eight
Lenora
I wanted to kiss him so badly.
I wanted him to kiss me more than anything in the world in that moment.
But I was confused—the situation, the emotions I felt, so profound I couldn’t breathe. I felt dizzy, scared.
I was excited and aroused.
I found myself breaking away from him and standing, unable to form words, unable to say anything in that moment.
I couldn’t even breathe.
“Beckham—I....” I didn’t even know what to say. The revelation, truth he’d just given me, rocked my world.
So instead of saying something wrong, awkward, or putting my foot in my mouth, I walked away from him. I made my way into the kitchen, finally able to suck in a breath, to try to gather my thoughts.
He loves me.
Beckham’s in love with me.
I braced my hands on the counter, curling my fingers around the granite, the stone cold, hard... sturdy and keeping me upright in that moment.
I closed my eyes and breathed out. I didn’t know how long I stood there; it could’ve been hours for all I knew but in reality was probably just mere seconds. I heard Beckham come into the kitchen, could feel the heaviness come from him in what he wanted to say. But he stayed silent until I turned around and faced him.
The way he looked at me was like a broken man, so much pain and anguish coming from him that all I wanted to do was go up to Beckham and embrace him. But right now, I shouldn’t worry about the past. I shouldn’t worry about anything but what he said to me, what he confided in me.
He was in love with me.
I could’ve prolonged this, questioned how he could have said those hurtful things to me if he’d been in love with me. Maybe it didn’t make any sense; maybe I shouldn’t believe a word he said. But I did. I looked into his face, stared into his eyes, and I knew the truth.