Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 26971 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26971 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
“I think Darian cares about everyone but himself. But if he believes I can do this, then I can. Because he’s the smartest person I know.”
“I’m sitting right here.”
“Hmmm.” She pretends to think it over, and I realize I’m smiling. “I guess we’ll find out.”
“Oh, we will.”
When did I move so close to her? I can feel the heat radiating off her body against me, and I want to lean in so I can press my lips to hers. Can she hear my heart beating in my chest? It’s like a drum in my ears telling me to taste her, to touch her, to make her mine.
A distant humming begins, and suddenly the lights are on. I stare at her, seeing just how close we are, and her eyes are wide as if she’s realized it too. But neither of us moves away as we sit there with our eyes locked.
“I…um…” She swallows and finally looks away. “I guess the storm passed.”
Outside the window, the dark clouds still loom, but she’s right. The wind has died down, and the rain has eased. I’m both relieved and disappointed because she won’t have a reason to stay anymore.
“Why don’t we give it a little longer?” I suggest.
She looks up and slowly smiles as she nods. “I’d like that.”
Chapter 5
Lindsey
I stand close to the mirror, putting on my mascara. I take my time doing it how the twins taught me because I was never big on makeup. Growing up it was more about getting food in your stomach than buying pretty things.
Even when I got older and did have extra money, it was hard to spend it on makeup. If I did, it was because I was getting it for the girls as a gift or because I knew they wanted it. We might only be a few years apart in age, but I’d fallen into a motherly role with them from the beginning, and I don’t think I’ll ever break away from that.
Working behind the scenes at a diner most of my life, I wasn't worrying about how pretty I was to get extra tips. I worried about what shoes would keep my feet from aching at the end of a twelve-hour shift.
Now as I stare in the mirror, I wish I had paid a bit more attention to what the makeup artists did to me every time I had to go to events with Darian and Rosy. I do the best I can because I don’t want to look like I’m trying too hard. Then again, how would Gibson know I was trying at all? He doesn't know the poor version of Lindsey. He has no idea if I wear makeup normally or not.
I look at myself in the mirror and sigh. “What are you doing?” I’m more than willing to admit last night was fun—more than fun. Gibson is different, and we clicked. He was so easy to talk to, and before I knew it, it was midnight. The storm eased, and eventually it was time to return to my room.
We missed the rest of the evening’s events, but with how much everyone was drinking yesterday, I’m hoping everyone else did too. I’m sure most crashed after dinner when the power went out and the storm rolled over us.
When I exit my bathroom suite, I see Mary sitting at the dining room table sipping a cup of coffee with her laptop open. She clicks away until she sees me enter, and then she peers up at me over her glasses.
“How do you do that? I didn't even hear you.”
She gives me a rueful smile as she pours me a cup of coffee. “Late night?”
I snag the cup quickly and take a quick sip to hide my heating face. I don’t know if I’ve ever blushed so much before, because it happened a time or two last night. Gibson makes me feel so different, and I don’t know what to do with all of it. It’s not like I ever dated anyone, or even flirted. There was never time for stuff like that in high school or beyond.
Last night I felt him making excuses to touch me, and the rush of emotions I felt in different parts of my body was new and exciting. I want more of it, but that’s playing a dangerous game. I’m not necessarily his boss, but I’ve always known better than to get romantic with someone I worked with.
“It was hard to fall asleep,” I admit, and it’s not a lie. I lay in bed for hours wondering if Gibson was having trouble doing the same. I didn’t want to leave his room, and he wasn’t exactly anxious for me to leave either. At times I could swear he was flirting with me, but he never tried anything.