Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 83221 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83221 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
It’s so messed up.
All of it.
Though Levi hurt me, and both Darren and Mom know what happened, he’s still living under the same roof as me. At school, he follows me like a dark shadow. It’s as if he’s claimed me somehow and is making sure the whole school knows it.
In Callum’s class, I keep waiting for him to notice. To swoop in and save me from the monster in my life. He probably would if I actually talked to him. So badly I want to whisper what Levi did to me whenever Callum has me wrapped in his safe arms, but I always find a reason to bite my tongue.
He hurt me.
Callum really hurt me when he blew up, assuming I did the worst with his brother and nephew, and never let me explain.
“Hey, Willa,” Levi says, flashing me a boyish grin as he passes by my desk. “You look pretty today.”
His words—his niceness—make my skin crawl. I don’t want him to look at me or speak to me. It’s bad enough sharing a class and a house with him.
“Take a seat, Mr. Paulson,” Callum calls out as he enters the classroom, voice thunderous and commanding. “This isn’t social hour, though your grade in my class begs to differ.”
The class sniggers. The chill that had settled in my bones is chased away by Callum’s warm voice. He doesn’t know the story, but he’s accurately deduced Levi did something to me. In his subtle way, he’s protecting me.
Tears sting at my eyes. This is all such a mess. If Callum cares enough to protect me from Levi, why didn’t he care enough to protect our relationship from his past trust issues?
Class goes by in a blur. I take half-ass notes but don’t pay attention to much other than Callum’s deep voice as he lectures. It’s nearly as soothing as his strong arms when he holds me at night. When the bell finally rings, I startle at the unexpected shrill tone.
“Miss Reyes,” Callum rumbles. “Can you stay after class?”
I lift my chin, tearing my eyes from my notes to where he sits perched on the edge of his desk. Somewhere during his lecture, he lost his suit jacket. The crisp, white material of his dress shirt stretches to the limits over his broad shoulders and muscular biceps. He’s leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, and his plum tie slightly sways in front of him.
I want to wrap my fist in the silky material and pull him to me. To kiss away the frown on his lips and beg him to take us back to where we were two weeks ago. Before all this…drama.
Instead, I gather up my belongings once the last person has left the room, shoulder my bag, and walk toward the front of the room.
“Set your bag down,” Callum instructs when I’m up front.
He slides off the desk and strides over to the classroom door. My eyes follow his ass, barely contained in his charcoal slacks. It’s hard not to drool over this man. His body is perfection, his voice is heaven, and his mouth is an addiction I’m desperate for another hit of.
The door clicks shut, effectively silencing the noise in the hallway. Now, all that can be heard, is the dull roar of blood rushing through my ears.
“Come here.”
His command is deep and authoritative. It leaves no room for argument. Despite my lingering anger and hurt, I find myself obeying him. Needing to be told what to do.
I slowly walk toward him, my knees slightly wobbly, until I’m two feet away from him. He closes the gap, stepping until we’re so close I have to crane my neck to look up at his handsome face.
“Sweetheart, you’re breaking my heart.”
I swallow at his pained words. Concern etches into his face at the tiny crow’s feet near the corners of his eyes and a few lines between his brows. Fierce blue eyes dart over my face, inspecting every detail, every expression.
“Why?” I croak out, swallowing hard.
He lifts a hand, cupping my cheek. My eyes flutter closed and I lean into his touch. “You’re so fucking sad. I can’t stand seeing you this way.”
Tears fill my lids, but I don’t let them spill over, instead blinking several times to chase them away. I attempt to look away—anywhere else—but his thumb presses into my cheek and he clutches my face so I can’t. A whimper crawls out of me as his thumb caresses my skin.
“Why won’t you talk to me?” His words are filled with the same pain that claws away at my insides. “I need you to talk to me.”
The desperation in his voice has me lifting my hands and skating them over the front of his chest. I want to comfort him somehow. Make the sadness go far, far away from him. He shudders at my touch and a sound I’ve never heard him make echoes in the classroom.