Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 29429 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 147(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 98(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29429 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 147(@200wpm)___ 118(@250wpm)___ 98(@300wpm)
I'm not going to turn my back on him.
Liar. You know you want him too. You just need an excuse.
"I think we need some ice cream," I announce, rummaging through the freezer for something to take the heat down between us.
Dean grunts. "Alright."
Wow, he really is shut down all of a sudden. "Do you want some?"
Another one-word answer. "Yes."
After scooping out the sweet treat, I go back to the couch and sit next to him, closer than I was before. I hand him his bowl, the spoon clinking against the side of it. “Here you go, now let's watch the movie."
Dean doesn’t restart the show, though. "Princess."
"Yeah?" Since when do I answer so easily to the pet name?
"We need to talk about this." He waves at the space between the two of us, and I know all too well what he’s referencing.
"I know." I sigh. "I'm not sure there's a whole lot to talk about, though."
"There's a whole lot to talk about. You're young and beautiful, and you're my son’s ex. But I can’t make myself care about any of that when you’re here. “
I pause with my spoon halfway to my face. "We've already established he and I are basically done. Now focus. Let's watch the movie."
Dean groans. "You're stubborn as hell, princess."
"You say that like it's a bad thing."
The look he gives me is pure fire, but Dean doesn't say a thing. He takes the remote and starts the movie, and even though I feel like I'm going to combust, I force myself to relax and watch.
After a few minutes, the adrenaline starts to fade, and I find myself yawning. I set my empty bowl on the table and snuggle into the corner of the couch, resting my feet on the cushions. I can't help the second yawn that comes, and then the third, and the fourth.
"Tired, princess?"
"Mmmhmmm. The movie is so good. It's scary but not too scary. Just right."
He chuckles. "That's not why you're tired. Do you want to go to bed?"
"No," I mumble. "I'm watching the movie."
Dean stands and walks away, and my heart drops. Is he done with me? I shouldn't be so clingy, and I know that, but I like being around him. I feel safe and comfortable.
I can hear him moving around the house, and the lights flip off, leaving only the light of the television.
"Here," he says and drapes a blanket over me. "Lie down and get some sleep."
It’s such a sweet gesture from a man who insists he isn’t sweet that it leaves me reeling. "Where are you going?"
"Nowhere, sweetheart. Just to the chair."
"Stay," I say, and it sounds more desperate than I meant it to. But he does, sitting back down on the sofa.
"Come here, then," he orders, and the command sends a shiver through me.
I do, lying down with my head on his thigh, and Dean runs his fingers through my hair.
"Go to sleep," he whispers.
"Okay."
"Goodnight, Delia."
"G'night."
My eyes flutter closed, and even though I'm exhausted, it takes a while for me to drift off. Because I can't help thinking, even as I fall asleep, how much better this is than my bed at home. How much better Dean is than Brody.
I wake up sometime in the middle of the night, my body cold. I don't know where I am at first, and panic seizes me. I sit up, and my arm flops to the floor, waking up my brain.
"Shh, princess," Dean murmurs. "You're okay."
"I fell asleep," I mumble, and his fingers stroke the back of my neck.
"I'm aware."
I turn and see him sitting on the floor, leaning against the couch. "What are you doing?"
"Making sure you were comfortable. Don't worry about me."
Consciousness bleeds in slowly, and now I'm all too aware of how close his face is to mine like this. So close I could bump my nose against his if I wanted. I wonder what he'd do.
"I'm not worried," I say.
"You're awake now, right? We should get to bed." He tucks a lock of hair behind my ear. “There are still a few hours before dawn.”
He's not wrong, but I don't want to let go of this moment. Whatever is between us, it feels so fragile, and I don't want to shatter it.
"I don't want to go."
"Neither do I."
Dean's voice is low and rumbly, and it does things to my body that make my nipples pebble under my shirt. "Dean..."
He groans, then moves until our noses touch. “You’re going to have to stop saying my name or you’re going to drive me insane.”
"Maybe," I whisper. "But it feels so good, doesn’t it?”
Dean growls, his hand sliding under my chin and holding my head in place as he leans closer. "Be very, very sure this is the path you want to walk down, princess.”
"I'm sure."
He kisses me, and the world turns inside out.