Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 92360 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92360 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 462(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
“Like destiny?” He pulls me onto his lap, leaning back in the high-back barstool.
“I suppose, but I also think we can create our own destiny, which contradicts what I just said, I know.” I shrug. “I’m no philosopher, but enough bad shit has happened I have to believe it’s for a reason.” My mind goes to my mom and how she was taken away too soon. “But a lot of good stuff happened too, and it wasn’t by some stroke of luck. It was hard work and determination.”
“I think I know what you mean,” he says and runs his fingers through my hair again. “We can control a lot of what goes on around us, but at the same time, have no control over just as much.”
I slowly bob my head up and down. “I think it comes down to how you choose to look at it. Your attitude makes a big difference, that’s why I chose to see it as things happening to make me who I am today. If I wasn’t such a weirdo, I wouldn’t have been ostracized in school, which wouldn’t have led me to live in my own little fantasy world, which drove me to create my Nightfall series.”
“Things happen for a reason,” he replies and gently cups my face in his large hands.
“Like us finally finding each other.”
He diverts his eyes for a moment, and then looks back with a smile. “Just like that.” He kisses me and rests his head against my breasts. We stay like that for a minute, and then Sam begrudgingly gets up to go to work.
“You look nice,” I tell him, openly checking him out. He’s wearing dress pants with a button-up shirt tucked in and a black leather belt tying it all together. “I thought you’d get to wear sweats or something to work since you change when you get to the hospital, right?”
“I do change right way, and it’s hospital policy,” he says with a roll of his eyes. “Physicians have to—quote—look like physicians—when we enter or leave the facility. I’m pretty sure the only other people who see me this early are the other doctors who walk in with me.”
“Well, I like it, but if you want to come home wearing only a lab coat, I wouldn’t object either.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” he says with a wink. Before he leaves for work, he makes sure I have keys and know the code to get into the apartment, and then gives me a very good kiss goodbye. I take my time finishing my coffee and then grab my computer and go back to bed. I make myself write an entire chapter before allowing any sort of social media usage, and three hours later, I’m ready for a nap. My throat hurts again, annoying me more than anything. I don’t have time for a cold, and getting sick as soon as I get to Sam’s is not what I had in mind.
Nevertheless, I push on with my writing. I’m not behind but not ahead, and if I can get another few chapters written today, then I’ll be able to enjoy the weekend with Sam, which is pretty damn motivating. Still, the fact that I’m technically not behind makes me want to slack off and spend too much time mindlessly scrolling through social media.
Think about the weekend, Chloe, I remind myself. Sleeping in, lounging naked in bed next to Sam without a care or worry...I close my eyes and inhale, trying to hype myself up.
It works, and I’ve written so much by the time that Sam gets home my wrists hurt.
“Hey, babe,” I say, looking up from my laptop, blinking. I moved to the living room couch halfway through the day, needing to get out of bed or risk falling asleep. “How was work?”
“Busy,” he says, going to the kitchen sink to wash his hands. “I’m glad to be home.”
I double-check that I’ve saved and backed up my progress and go over to him. He quickly dries his hands and takes me in his arms. My heart flutters in my chest and I know I’m getting a little ahead of myself imaging this is our new routine, though I don’t see the harm in thinking of the future. Sam is my end game. I just know it.
“And I’m glad you’re home.” I stand on my toes, wrapping my arms around his neck, and kiss him. He moves his mouth from my lips to my neck, nipping and sucking at my skin. “Mmmm,” I groan, ignoring the little voice in the back of my head that reminds me I need to get dressed for dinner. Sam texted me earlier, letting me know he got us a reservation for eight-thirty…which is only an hour from now. The place is close to his apartment at least, and we can get an Uber and be there in twenty to thirty minutes assuming traffic isn’t terrible.