Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 76697 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76697 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
“That’s probably because I am.” He shrugs one shoulder like he isn’t offended by my accusation.
“How did you know I was here? I know this isn’t the only psychiatric practice in town.”
“I called Brie. She told me where you were.”
“She’s seriously in so much trouble,” I grumble under my breath, stopping a couple feet away from him.
“How was it?”
“How was what?”
“Your appointment.”
I drag in a deep breath then let it out slowly. “Good, or whatever it’s supposed to be.” I lift my shoulders slightly. “I have another appointment in a few days.”
“That’s good.” He reaches out and grabs my hand, pulling me closer to him. “I’m proud of you.” I blink up at him in surprise. “It takes a lot of courage to reach out for help. Most people don’t have that kind of courage.”
“Thanks,” I say softly while warmth floods my veins.
He reaches forward with his hand not holding mine and touches his fingers to my cheek then slides them down and across my bottom lip, making me shiver. “I hated not touching or kissing you this afternoon.” At his confession, my lungs freeze. “I sat in my truck in the parking lot for a long fucking time talking myself out of going back inside again.”
“You did?” My voice is breathy as I look into his eyes.
“Yeah.” His finger swipes my lip once more. “Did you think about it? About not getting it from me before I left?”
I should tell him no. I should lift my hands to push him away, but instead, I nod then close my eyes as he dips his head to brush his mouth across mine.
“Softest lips I’ve ever felt,” he murmurs. My eyes flutter open and my heart starts to pound. “I’ll follow you home.” He takes a slight step back, making me feel suddenly cold. “We’ll order something in for dinner when we get there.”
“‘Kay,” I agree without thinking then slide in behind the steering wheel when he opens my door. Once I’m inside, he shuts my door, and until I start the engine, he doesn’t walk away. With the engine running, I watch him go to his truck parked a few spots away and get in. I pull out before him and see him in my rearview mirror, following me home.
When we reach my place, I park then get out, heading for the mailbox as he parks his truck in my driveway behind my car. After I grab the mail, I turn around and see him drag a large black duffle bag from the back. I don’t ask him what’s in the bag, because I already know the answer to that question. Obviously, he’s planning on staying the night, but not planning on having to go home early to shower and change before work tomorrow. His assumption that he’s sleeping over should annoy me, but it doesn’t. Instead, I feel relieved at the idea of having him close and being able to get some sleep tonight.
When I’m halfway to my front door, my cell phone rings, so I pull it out and look at the screen. Seeing Brie’s name, I know I can’t ignore her call; she won’t give up if I don’t answer, and instead she will show up in person and demand answers. I put my phone to my ear and I pause in the middle of saying hello, watching as Cobi pulls out my spare key and opens my front door.
“Brie, I need to call you back,” I say into the phone, hearing her shout “What?” before I hang up on her.
“You still have my key.”
At my statement, Cobi turns to look at me over his shoulder.
His eyes roam my face and he smirks, muttering. “You didn’t ask for it back.”
Taking a few steps forward, I stop at the bottom of the steps, looking up at him. “I didn’t know I had to ask you for my key back, since it’s—” I point at myself. “—my key.”
“You gave it to me.”
Shaking my head, I sputter. “I didn’t give it to you. I let you borrow it.”
“Whatever. Do you know what you want for dinner?”
“Whatever? Seriously?” I plant my hands on my hips.
“Babe, you’re exhausted. I’m exhausted and I’m also hungry. So as cute as you are when you’re pissed, I don’t have it in me to spar with you over a fucking key.”
I ignore the whole ‘you’re cute’ thing and focus on the rest. “I’m not sparring with you. I’m pointing out that you still have my key.” I frown. “Did you use it yesterday when I wasn’t home?”
“Yep,” he states easily.
This guy just cannot be believed. “I want the key back,” I tell him, holding out my hand and stomping up the steps to where he’s standing.
“Sure.” He drops it in my open palm, and I look at it then him in surprise. “Doesn’t really matter; I made a copy this afternoon so you wouldn’t be out a spare.”