Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 130221 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 651(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130221 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 651(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
“No, stay.”
I look at her. I don’t want to stay.
“Have fun.” She smiles small, placing her hand on my stomach. “Just…be careful if you get lucky, okay? You got protection?”
Excuse me?
“What?” I spit out.
She shrugs. “I’m sure Kade does.” She takes my hand and pats it, smiling softly. “I won’t wait up.”
Did she just seriously pat my hand?
She turns and starts to leave, one last look like she’s my sister, with a mixture of protectiveness and pride as she sends me out into the world to be a man.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I say, pulling her back by the arm. “What the fuck are you talking about? You told me not to touch anyone while we’re messing around.”
She saw Schuyler talking to me. Is that what this is about?
“I was an idiot.” She sighs, shaking her head. “Don’t mind me. I don’t know what I was thinking. Just girl shit, I guess.” She inches closer, the expression on her face so sweet I can smell the fucking frosting. “If you’re feeling it, go for it. I was being stupid. You don’t owe me anything. We’re friends. I want you to be happy.”
“Aro—”
“I want you to,” she assures me, and I look down at her hand on mine. “Have fun, okay?”
What?
She leaves, and I follow her upstairs to stop her, but Dylan runs past, grabbing her keys and kissing me on the cheek.
The next minute, the front door slams shut, and twenty minutes later, I’m drunk.
Aro
I snap my eyes open, the entire front of my head aching in that way it does when you’re not getting good sleep. I rub my face, Hawke popping into my mind. I jerk my eyes to the bedside table, seeing the time is after two in the morning.
I pop up, the light in the hallway that I’d left on for him still illuminated.
Is he back? I didn’t hear him come in, and it’s not like I was really waiting, but I do want to make sure he’s safe.
I slip off the bed and rise, stepping toward my door. I hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but after Dylan dropped me off, I tried to find something to do.
I played Grand Theft Auto V. Went into the bakery and snooped around. Called my sister, but she and her boyfriend were putting Matty to bed.
I went up onto the roof and tried looking at the stars, but all I kept doing was watching the street for him to come home.
Finally, I gulped down two of his beers and crawled into his bed, but then I remembered that it wasn’t my bed, so I crawled into mine instead.
I leave my room and step quietly down the hallway to the other side and see his door wide open.
My stomach sinks, and I peer inside, the bedside lamp on and his bed still made.
Dread sits like a brick in my stomach. No…
I turn, trying to control my breathing, and check the gym, the great room, the other tunnel leading to Rivertown, and the bakery.
Where the hell is he?
I squeeze my eyes shut, grinding my teeth together. Where the fuck is he?
I thread my hands through my hair, ready to go out there and find him. Why is he still out? What’s he doing?
I race back to my room, grabbing my phone and checking for missed calls or messages, but…
There’s nothing.
Not one single thing.
What if Green Street showed up like he anticipated? What if the cops raided the party and Reeves got him?
What if he found someone to go home with?
I drift back into the great room, my fingers paused over his number, but if something bad has happened and he’s capable of answering the phone, he would’ve called or texted to warn me already.
And if he’s with someone, I don’t…
I sink into the couch, sick to my stomach.
I don’t want to remind him that I’m here. It would be humiliating.
I throw my phone down and drop back, slouching.
I just want him to have fun. I want him to find something good, because he’s amazing, but these girls…
I mean, he’s super particular. And picky! They don’t know how to roll with that. How he always lets you know there’s a better way to do something, really doesn’t like to be dirty, and if I put away the dishes, he sweeps through again and makes sure they’re all facing the same way on the rack. It’s kind of cute, but most women would want to kill him.
And they’re not going to be gentle the way he needs them to be. He’s kind of fragile. You just have to be there and not pressure him, and before you know it, he’s holding you so tightly you can’t tell which limb is his or yours.
And the way he breathes into your neck when he holds you… It’s absolutely incredible. But you have to earn that from him with patience. Trust.