Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 129131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
When I knock on the door, I hear the same scrabble of toenails on the tile and yapping, and it makes me smile. He might only be fourteen pounds, he might flop over as soon as you say ‘belly rub’, but Raffy’s a damn good alarm system at least.
“Noah?” Riley says through the door, and it opens up a crack.
“Were you expecting someone else? I’m right on time,” I joke, but she doesn’t smile. “I come bearing gifts,” I tell her, holding up the cherry-covered cheesecake enticingly.
Riley’s door closes, and I hear the chain slide, and a moment later, she lets me in. She’s wearing pale blue jeans with rips along the thighs, a thin yellow tank top, and bare feet, showing off that cute yellow pedicure. I fight the urge to kiss her once more.
Go slow, man. For all her exuberance, she’s skittish where you’re concerned.
Raffy, remembering me from last time, immediately starts wiggling his nub of a tail, happy to have someone around to spoil him.
“You brought me cheesecake,” Riley says bluntly as she takes the container from me and sets it on the kitchen counter. She turns around, and I stand up from where I’ve knelt to sneak Raffy one of his blueberry muffin treats. Riley’s brows go up when she sees her dog drooling over the crunchy biscuit. “And you’re spoiling my dog. Why?”
I square my shoulders. “He’s important to you, so he’s going to be important to me.”
She blinks slowly, a tiny line between her brows growing deeper each time her eyes close and open. “I always have something to say, some positive quote or encouraging words, but . . . I’ve got nothing.”
“I’ll take it as a good sign that I’ve rendered you speechless with my charms.” I offer a gentle smile, and slowly, she returns it.
“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” she blurts. I’m not sure she meant to say it because she clacks her mouth closed, looking horrified.
“What?” I say in shock.
Haven’t I made it abundantly clear that I want her? Want this?
“Look, Noah . . . I’m in. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since . . .” She swallows, as if steeling her nerves before continuing, “That kiss. I’ve thought about our messages as Rachel and Mark, our conversation, about Arielle and River . . . I’ve thought about everything, and I just . . . Why me?”
Her big blue eyes look up at me, confusion written in the swirling emotions there.
“Because . . .”
I pause, stopping myself before I can say something easy like ‘you’re beautiful.’ As true as that may be, it’s superficial.
I need to be deeper. I need to be honest in the way I was when I thought Riley was ‘Rachel’, when it was words on a screen and not the sheer physical presence in front of me. And honestly, I am not good at this.
I hate not being good at something.
But I man up because I have to. Because she’s worth it and I have never backed down from something just because it’s hard. I’ve been thinking about what I want to say, practicing it in my head, editing and revising it so that it’s the best it can be because this conversation might be the most important one I’ve ever had. I’m ready for this.
Stepping into her, I crowd her space to be close to her, but I keep my hands at my side, not letting myself touch her until I say what I need to say and she understands.
I inject every bit of earnest truth I possess into my words. “Riley, from the first time I read your profile, I felt a connection between us. I was shocked, and at first, I couldn’t believe it. Hell, the reason I replied was because I just couldn't believe that some AI had found such a perfect match for me.
“But then we started messaging. And it was like a switch flipped in my brain. I’m proud to say that I love what I do. I like working at Life Corp, and I still have aims for the top of the tower. And for years, I’ve put Life Corp first, burying myself in my work, thriving there and enjoying every moment of it. But the thrill I’ve gotten from my work is nothing compared to what happens when my phone dings and I know it’s you. My heart races with excitement, and I can’t open the message fast enough to see what you’ve said. Usually, I’d be mad at anything that interrupts my work, but I feel like work interrupts me from talking to you, not the other way around.”
I take a deep breath, letting it out in one long whoosh. That was hard to say, even harder to realize, and I know I’ll need to do some hours of number crunching later to make it up to myself.