Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 388(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 388(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
But with me, I was in his house. He couldn’t just leave. So he’d gone upstairs.
This was why I’d been trying to tell myself how terrible an idea sleeping with him would be.
We were trapped together.
It would be awkward.
Well, maybe not if I just… didn’t interact with him.
It felt childish to be concocting a plan to never run into Cosimo while I was staying in his house.
But it felt like the only way I could get through this without feeling really weird about not only what happened, but how I felt afterward.
I showered until my skin was bright red and the water finally ran cold before getting dressed and climbing back into bed.
I didn’t sleep.
Not for a long time.
In fact, not until I heard Cosimo stirring again. When I checked the clock, it said it was half after five in the morning.
He was likely going to hit the gym before he got to work.
Which meant I would then have the whole day in the apartment before I needed to get back into my room.
I dozed on and off until the knocking at the door finally roused me from bed.
As usual, I found my breakfast waiting for me, as well as a bag of books.
I hated being grateful to him for them, but I brought the books to my room, placing them on my nightstand along with a flashlight I found in a drawer, knowing I would be able to read them for the long hours between when Cosimo came home and when he went to bed.
I even prepared freaking snacks to keep in the room with me.
The logical part of my brain was cursing me for being a coward.
But even after some sleep, I felt raw about the whole thing.
It wasn’t until I went back into my room, closing and locking the door, then turning out the lights, that I admitted to myself what was going on.
Some part of me, whether it made a single bit of damn sense or not, was starting to like Cosimo.
Because a man couldn’t be all bad if he was remembering to send food and dropping thousands of dollars on my clothes and keeping not only me but my grandfather safe.
I shot up in the bed at that thought, realizing there would be no way for me to visit or even call my grandfather if I was avoiding Cosimo.
I tried to remind myself he was in the best place for him. But I couldn’t shake the guilt even as the way my heart flew into my throat when I heard Cosimo come home reminded me that I was doing what was best for myself. At least for the time being.
Maybe in the morning, I could ask one of the guards if they could take me to see my grandfather. Or, at the very least, let me borrow their phones to call him to chat. He wouldn’t mind that. He would think I was doing right by the shop by not closing it to come and visit him. His workaholic nature played out in my favor this once.
I sat there, damn near holding my breath as I heard Cosimo moving around the apartment, mostly focusing in the kitchen, but then heading upstairs, only to come right down again.
His footsteps came closer to my room, and I swear my heart seized in my chest as they stopped outside of my door, pausing, listening.
Hearing nothing, he did eventually move away.
I heard him speaking periodically throughout the evening, talking to the guards, or more often, on his phone. Before, finally, he made his way upstairs.
I could hear the water in the pipes as he took a shower. I wasn’t proud to admit this, but my traitorous imagination pictured him in there, the water running down those indents of his muscles, the soap bubbles slipping down his body. And maybe he would reach down, grabbing his cock…
No.
Nope.
I wasn’t letting my mind go there.
My stupid libido was the reason I was in this mess.
All I had to do was push him away in that dressing room when he reached for me, and none of this would be happening. But no, I had to find it hot, and allowed it to happen.
Grumbling, I pulled the blankets over my head, and went ahead and didn’t sleep. Not for hours.
But, eventually, boredom won out, and I drifted away.
It was the front door closing that woke me up the next morning.
I wouldn’t let myself immediately go out, though, worried that he might circle back. It wasn’t until half an hour passed that I went out into the kitchen, finding coffee waiting for me.
When I went into the fridge to get some cream, I saw a container that hadn’t been there the night before.
Pulling it out, I found steak, mashed potatoes, and asparagus sitting there.
He’d ordered me dinner.