Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 111229 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 556(@200wpm)___ 445(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111229 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 556(@200wpm)___ 445(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
“I don’t hold elevators for people—in fact I purposely close the doors when people run for them. It’s evil and mean but I hate sharing an enclosed space with strangers. I pretend not to notice people waiting at crossings when I’m in a hurry. Heck, I don’t even slow down. I’m lucky I haven’t hit anyone yet. I hate old people. They annoy me, and it irritates the fuck out of me when they act like I should find them adorable. Same thing with kids. They’re dirty and loud and always seem to have sticky hands.” I stopped and stood in front of him.
“There’s plenty more where that came from. You can’t say all that stuff about marriage and forever when you haven’t even spent an entire weekend alone with me,” I declared.
Ian looked amused. “I know enough. All that other shit I find out along the way will just be a bonus.”
I let out a little scream. “You’re acting like we’re a forgone conclusion, like my protests are amusing to you and you’re just waiting for the little female to calm down and then she’ll be wowed by your sexy accent and impressive ass. You said the reason why you dumped me is because you didn’t want me stuck in one place waiting for you when that’s exactly what you’ve expected me to do!”
Ian started to look frustrated. “That’s not what I expect. I expect to spend a long time making it up to you. I expect that things aren’t going to go smoothly.” His eyes darkened. “But you are mine and you know it.”
I threw my arms up in the air. “Stop it! I’m not ‘yours’—I’m not anyone’s. I’m my own person. Belonging to a male does not define me and it sure as shit isn’t going to happen.” My anger threatened to turn me green as this whole freaking situation was hurtling out of my control.
Ian stepped forward. I held my hand up. “You need to leave,” I ordered, sidestepping him and opening my door.
He glared at me. “I’m not going anywhere until we sort this out,” he declared.
“There’s nothing to sort out!” I snapped at him. “You think we have some kind of future because now you’ve decided you want it. I disagree. Subject closed.”
Ian crossed his arms over his chest. “The subject is not fuckin’ closed, Amy! I’m going to apologize a thousand times for the way I treated you, but I’m never going to apologize for loving you. I’m going to do it until the day I die, and I’ll do everything I can to make you give me another chance.” He stared at me a moment longer before he strolled out the door.
I slammed it, resting my back against it. I sank to the floor, holding my head in my hands. This was a disaster.
The next few days were spent dodging Ian. This was hard considering he had commenced his ‘make Amy forgive me and remember how much she loves me’ mission. He cornered me every chance he got and did all this chivalrous stuff like opening doors for me while blatantly checking me out and doing his best to touch me in some way.
I did my best to scowl at him, but I was only human. A woman could only be trapped in a house with a seriously hot soldier who she used to be in love with without something happening. That something was either pouncing on him or spontaneously combusting.
I did my level best to be at the store as often as possible and out of the house. I didn’t see or hear from Brock, which I was conflicted about. He was serious about being “done” and I was upset. Then I felt guilty about missing him when I had a kind and extremely sexy man declaring his undying love for me. I didn’t know what to think about the whole situation so I did the adult thing and tried to ignore it.
I couldn’t ignore it, however, on Ian’s last night when Gwen dragged me out to dinner with her, Ian, and Cade. It was torture; he sat across from me the whole night staring like I was his dinner. It didn’t help that his legs kept touching mine. He would purposefully brush them together, rubbing my ankles with his. He wasn’t even fazed when I attempted to kick him, only succeeding in spilling my cocktail.
The attraction between us was something not to be denied; neither was the reality of the fact he was leaving the next day. As much as I wanted to ignore the entire situation, I couldn’t when he was running back off to war and I would regret not laying it all out when I could. I couldn’t spend six more months obsessing over him while he was god knows where. I had to do it now. I was about to creep into his room after the house went quiet later that night, but my door slowly opened, showing he had beat me to it.
I had planned on saying a lot of things. On explaining why it wasn’t going to work after everything that had happened. On telling him I couldn’t open myself back up to him again. On letting him know that I had feelings for another man. I had a speech and everything. But it all tumbled out of my mind the moment he closed the door, the moment our eyes locked.
He was leaving the next day. I didn’t know whether I would see him again. He strode toward me purposefully and clutched my body to his, crashing his mouth on mine.
Ian kissed me tenderly, taking his time like he was savoring me. The feeling of his lips against mine, his hands on my waist had me pressing myself against his hard body. I poured every single bit of emotion I had into the kiss: all the love I had bottled up, all the anger I had already unleashed, everything. Ian directed me towards the bed, lowering me down and covering my body with his.