Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80052 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80052 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 400(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
I hold perfectly still. “Why?”
I know why I think about it. It’s my most frequented fantasy, the one I revisit every night, alone in my dorm. Never mind that I feel foolish doing it. I can’t give it up, no matter how hard I try.
He scoots closer. “Because every moment of my day is spent the same way. Hour after hour. Minute after minute. I want you, always.”
Holy hell.
That’s . . . that’s really something.
I repeat it all back to myself in my head, just to be sure I’ve got it right. There was no double entendre I was too stupid to pick up on the first time, right? No hidden meaning?
“But you never—”
“When would I—”
Oh my god.
I stare up at the dark ceiling as the numbness from the last few hours starts to lift, replaced by a delicious warmth.
“I think I’ve been blind,” I tell him.
“And I’ve been too shy . . .”
It’s too late for me to rein in my elation. I’m a confetti cannon, ready to fire. I turn over and hurriedly reply, “You don’t have to be shy now. It’s just me in the dark.”
Me, the girl who’s loved you in quiet for months and months.
A heavy pause sends a frisson of fear through me. Things aren’t set in stone. My heart is still waiting on tenterhooks, hoping for the best. This could all go up in smoke.
Then I feel Cole shift on the bed, scooting even closer to me. I feel his heat before I feel him touch my arm. He drags his hand up until he reaches my neck, my face. Then he cups my cheek and turns my face so that I’m looking at him in the dark. What is he thinking? Where is he looking?
“Paige?”
His voice is the only thing I have to go by, and so I focus there. “Hmm?”
“No more war. Wave your white flag.”
“I am. Can you see it?”
I take his hand from my cheek and put it on my wrist as I sway my hand back and forth. He laughs, and then he tugs free of my grip and comes over me, his heaviness like a blanket on top of me. His hips pin mine down as he falls forward, his hands on the pillow beside my head.
“Tell me the truth once and for all,” he demands.
I can smell his minty breath. His mouth is so close to mine now.
“What do you want to know?”
“Am I alone in this?”
I shake my head, but he can’t see it. It’s not answer enough.
“Say it, please,” he begs. “Say it and I’ll believe you. Say it and we can be done.” His mouth drops even closer. “No more pretending, I swear it.”
When I go quiet, he leans down farther. His lips brush my temple, my cheek. I don’t think he has a plan in mind except to tempt me out of my shell. Just when his mouth creeps toward mine and I think he’ll kiss me—my excitement growing—he pulls away, and it’s the fear of his departure that finally provokes me to speak the truth.
“I love you,” I say as I grab for him, worried he’ll leave. “God, more than that, I like you. I like you so much. This year, since I met you, it feels like you’re the only one who gets me, like you’re my very best friend but also . . . I feel so . . . so—”
“Scared?”
“Petrified.”
He takes my hand then and brings it to his chest, pressing it hard against his heartbeat. He’s showing me his fear too.
He’s answering my worries.
“Paige, I . . .”
He stalls like the words are stuck in his throat. I’m not surprised he’s having trouble expressing himself. Cole isn’t the type to throw around casual endearments.
“You . . . ,” I say, goading him with a smile.
“I love you.” His words are a whisper. Even now, even in this, he’s shy.
Then he lifts my hand to his lips, and he presses a kiss to my palm, my wrist, the crook of my elbow, my shoulder . . . on he goes to my neck, chin. Then his mouth finds mine, and it’s like we’ve just cut our chains and freed ourselves. My arms loop around his neck as he falls down onto me, kissing me with a fierceness I’ve never felt. It’s overwhelming, but that little voice of worry in my head doesn’t get center stage. Lust wins out. The need to let him continue however he likes, to do with me whatever he wishes.
I would love to see him, but I can’t be bothered to push him off me and turn on a lamp, so I feel him instead. I run my hands down his muscular back until I reach the dip at his hips. I press my body up against his, and he responds by pushing me down hard into the bed, rolling his hips, making me gasp.