Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 73230 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73230 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
My sister had taken them for me, for the time being, because Casten had refused them entry into his home. I guess I should feel privileged that he even let me into his home.
“Anybody want pizza? I seem to have run out of everything essential to make any kind of meal,” Casten drawled from the doorway that led into the kitchen.
My stomach growled, and he smirked at me before looking at his sisters.
“No, we just ate all your food,” Rhea waved him off. “But if you wanted to order extra, I’d eat it for lunch tomorrow.”
Pizza sounded heavenly.
“I could eat,” I told him.
Hospital food sucked.
Like bad.
In fact, I thought I might have lost the final fifteen pounds that I’d been wanting to lose. But I didn’t have my clothes to try on my skinny jeans to test that theory.
“What kind do you like?” He turned his gaze to me.
“Buffalo chicken with that buffalo sauce drizzled on top. Pepperoni and mushroom as well,” I answered him.
There was a slight pause in the room, and I looked at them all.
“What?” I looked around.
“That sounds disgusting,” Rhea was the one to answer.
I shrugged. “Y’all asked what I liked. What? Did you want me to lie?”
Casten just shook his head, then walked to his phone and ordered the pizza.
I found that I was really happy he didn’t make fun of me.
I wasn’t the most conventional of women, and it was nice to have someone not question those things that most people found weird about me.
***
“You get any more messages?” Casten asked.
I shook my head. “No. I haven’t.”
He grunted. “I gotta check your belly to make sure there’s no seepage.”
I wanted to throw up a little bit in my mouth at his use of the word ‘seepage.’
I lifted my shirt, and Casten got down on his haunches so he was eye level with my belly. I had been instructed to leave the bandage off after the third post-op day to check for infection.
“Looks okay,” he murmured.
I saw the moment he realized, and I prayed that he wouldn’t say anything.
My prayer wasn’t answered.
“What’s this?” Casten asked, running his finger along the scar on my belly that wasn’t from having my appendix removed.
I stiffened and turned away, pulling my shirt back down over my belly.
“Nothing,” I lied.
I wasn’t ready to talk about that yet.
In fact, I’d probably never be ready to talk about it.
It’d been well over eight years, and I still got cold sweats when I let my mind touch on the subject.
“Sure, it’s nothing,” Casten snorted. “You want to go to dinner?”
I turned around and scowled at him.
“Maybe. Where are we going?” I asked suspiciously.
He shrugged. “You pick. I gotta change my clothes.”
I pursed my lips as I watched him walk out of the room, surprised that he’d just let the whole scar tissue drop and then had asked me to dinner.
What had happened to his ‘I don’t date’ vibe he had before I’d gotten sick?
And on that subject, was I still invited to his mother’s wedding?
I moved like an old lady as I made my way to the door, pausing in the entranceway as I looked down the hall.
Casten’s house was actually kind of cool, the way it was set up.
The whole side of the house that we were in was made up of bedrooms. There were four of them in total, and I was in what he used as an office when he wasn’t at his actual office.
My room was right next to Rhea’s, and Rhea’s was right next to CeeCee’s.
Casten’s, though, was at the very end of the hall, and my door faced his door.
So I got to see as he shucked his pants and went for a different pair.
I watched as his muscles shifted and bunched, mouth going dry as he turned to start looping his belt into the belt loops, giving my first good look at his body without a t-shirt covering him.
He had amazing, rippled abs.
A well-defined chest.
And that beautiful V that led straight down to his crotch.
But what had my complete and total attention was his nipples.
They were pierced.
“Oh, my God,” I whispered.
He looked up and over at me, making me freeze like a deer in headlights.
He turned slightly, lifting his head to face me, then placing both hands on either side of his door.
“What are you looking at?” he rumbled.
I went momentarily blank at the picture he made.
God, he was sexy.
Standing there, leaning against the door frame, he looked like a man ready to pounce.
My nipples pebbled and my breathing sped.
And I wasn’t even going to get started on the things that were happening in my pants.
“Your nipples!” I blurted.
He looked taken aback by that.
“You’re lying,” he snapped.
I moved forward, only then becoming aware that my belly hurt.
But I kept moving, putting one foot in front of the other, until I stopped just inches from his face.