Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 115737 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115737 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
When he pulls up outside my flat, I literally dive out of the car and run up the steps to my front door, fumbling with the lock to get inside. My skin is tingling terribly. The need to run back to him is strong.
Married!
I slam the door and rush through to the kitchen, shrugging out of my coat and kicking my shoes off on my way, deciding a glass of wine is in order to try and calm myself down. Wine, and maybe a bath. No more work tonight. No more thinking.
‘Motherfucker!’ I screech, grabbing the kitchen door and virtually climbing up the wood. ‘Oh my God!’
I feel all the colour drain from my face as I stare into a pair of beady eyes watching me from the kitchen floor – eyes that belong to the biggest mouse I’ve ever seen in my life. My heart is clattering in my chest as I grapple at the top of the door, keeping my feet off the ground. It’s just staring at me, totally unperturbed, bold as fucking brass.
‘Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!’
We’re in a staring deadlock, me hanging off the door, the elephant-sized mouse holding position in the middle of my kitchen floor. Then it moves suddenly and I scream, watching in horror as it scurries across the kitchen floor and disappears behind a cupboard.
‘Mouse!’ I shriek, dropping from the door and running at full pelt down the hallway to the front door. I throw it open, the wood hitting the wall behind it and crashing loudly, echoing in the night air. Then I stumble down the path and run across the road, as far away from my flat as I can get. Mice. Oh God, I fucking hate mice! My breathing becomes rushed. I’m hyperventilating.
I shudder from top to toe and glance down the street. What now?
‘Annie?’ Jack’s concerned voice pulls my attention to my right, where he’s standing across the road by his Audi. He’s still here?
I point to my front door. ‘Mouse,’ I mumble meekly.
He stares at me. And then he laughs. He fucking laughs. I don’t know why. This is about as funny as a nasty rash. I look at him, releasing a scowl of epic proportions, and manage to see through my fear and irritation that he’s absolutely in bits, his hands holding his stomach. He looks so fucking handsome. Delightfully so. The fact that he’s simply here is enough to cause another meltdown. With his infectious smile and the sound of his laugh, I’m in trouble. Jack . . . and a mouse. Two meltdowns happening all at once will probably kill me.
He looks at my shaking form across the road, smiling brightly, his face alive with happiness, and my world starts spinning wildly out of control at the sight.
I’m screaming on the inside. Positively falling apart, and the mouse is only half the reason why. The mouse, Jack . . . and that familiar sizzle of electricity bouncing between our bodies. He finally finds the will to calm his amusement, and realisation dawns on his face. The scene, him standing on one side of the road, me on the other. Staring at each other. Tension. Want.
The silence lingers painfully. I can’t deal with it, but before I can speak to move things along, Jack does. ‘Where in the kitchen should I look?’
My relief that he’s keeping this to business, so to speak, is obvious. I exhale deeply. ‘It ran behind the cupboard by the double doors.’
‘Are you okay out here on your own?’ he asks. I can see so many things he wants to say in his grey eyes, and I silently beg that he doesn’t.
‘I think it’s safer for me to stay out here,’ I say quietly, knowing he understands the hidden meaning in my statement. A mouse in my flat is enough to keep me out. Jack in my flat too makes it the most hazardous zone ever.
I remain where I am as he slowly makes his way up to the open doorway and strides down the hallway with no hesitation or caution.
His back.
Solid and wide.
My fingers scraping into his flesh as he drives into . . .
My hands come up and encase my head, my fingers clawing into my scalp like they can squish the thoughts. He’s in my flat. I turn away, looking up to the sky as I battle to stop my fortitude from disintegrating. This week has been fucking exhausting. I need it to be over so I can spend all weekend getting trashed and restocking on willpower quickly before I flake. Before I venture into forbidden territory.
It feels like hours of waiting. Hours of holding onto my conscience. Hours of remaining where I am and keeping my thoughts in check. Hours of running through every reason why he’s not to be touched. Thought of. Admired.