Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 116263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 581(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 581(@200wpm)___ 465(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
I eased in.
The room was dank and stale. Two full beds covered in brown bedspreads sat against the left wall, and a television that should have been obsolete sat on a dresser across from them. A round table with two chairs was situated under the window, and the door to the bathroom was on the far back wall.
“I’ll be right back,” he told me as he slipped back out into a morning that broke at the cracks.
I nodded through the thickness, hating that I felt ill at ease, hating the tension that strained between us.
But I guess that was what happened when worlds collided.
There were fractures.
Pieces that didn’t fit.
I wandered deeper into the room, trying not to cringe at the sharp sting elicited by the cuts I’d sustained on my feet. I was sure they were torn to shreds.
Pax returned with a duffel bag, which he tossed onto the bed closest to the window. He locked and bolted the door before he turned around and stared at me from across the space.
Energy pulsed.
Whipping through the small room as he watched me with those pale, pale eyes.
Awareness rippled across my flesh and lifted goose bumps on the nape of my neck.
Pax scrubbed a palm over his face. “You need to get out of those wet clothes and into a hot shower. You’re shaking.”
I was, but I didn’t know if the cold had anything to do with it.
“A shower would be good,” I agreed.
I finally tore myself from the grip of his gaze and waded through the discomfort and into the bathroom.
I stripped myself of the still-damp clothes and turned on the shower. It took a minute before steam filled the room, and the heated spray felt like tiny pinpricks of fire against my frozen skin when I stepped into it.
It took only a moment to get acclimated, and my entire body shuddered as I gave myself over to the warmth.
I let the water pound into my knotted shoulders, let it seep and soothe and wash away the terror of what I’d felt during the night.
Because I might not know the future or where we would go from here.
But for now?
For now, we were safe.
Turning off the shower, I stepped out, grabbed a thin white towel, and wrapped it around my body. I used another to dry my thick mass of hair the best I could.
I glanced at the pile of wet pajamas on the floor. The idea of putting them back on was less than appealing.
Blowing out a sigh, I dug my underwear out of the pile, found an old blow-dryer under the sink, and dried them enough that I could put them on.
Then I rewrapped myself in the towel and unlocked the bathroom door, inhaling a shaky breath as I thought of what was waiting for me on the other side.
But I couldn’t tiptoe. Couldn’t give in to the human side of me that swarmed with the flutter of butterflies in my belly. Couldn’t give consideration to the millions of times I’d thought of us like this.
We had enough to worry about without me treading through awkwardness.
Enough trouble without my heart clutching in anticipation at seeing him again.
Only I froze when those pale eyes snapped up as I stepped out. I clutched the thin towel to my chest, feeling more exposed than I ever had in my entire life as his gaze raked over me from where he sat on the bed, digging through the duffel bag he’d brought in.
It was like it was the first time he’d given himself permission to look at me.
Like he was cataloging.
Categorizing.
Locking it away to memory.
The scars that were exposed and the tangle of my wet hair and the droplets of water that snaked over my shoulder and rolled down my arm.
He’d done it all in the flash of a second before he dropped his attention back to the bag, though he gestured with that sharp chin to the bed opposite him. “Sit.”
I shuffled forward, trying not to wince with every painful step, still clinging to the towel as if it could shield me from the questions that whirled. As I fought with the urge to go to him, to touch the harsh angles of his face, to know him here the way I knew him in Tearsith.
But there was a barrier between us here.
An invisible chasm that gaped.
Still, I couldn’t look at this man and ever believe that he could be a threat to me. That he could ever turn on me the way we’d been warned. That he could betray me the way Valeen had been scorned.
I came to the end of the bed, wavering where I stood.
His teeth gritted as he glanced up at me where I was a foot away. “How are you feeling?”
Uncertainty pinched my face. “I honestly don’t know. This feels impossible. Like it isn’t real. I keep thinking I’ve fallen into some strange dream.”