Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 70629 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 283(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70629 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 283(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
"One step at a time,” he says softly. “One step at a time," he repeats, and I can feel the heat through my T-shirt now.
"Yeah," I say, afraid to turn around and come face-to-face with him because I’m not sure of myself right now. He drops his hands and steps away from me. Walking back to grab his plate, he rinses it off before he puts it in the dishwasher.
"Want to go sit outside?" he asks, and I nod. He grabs my hand and pulls me behind him, walking out of the house.
He sits down and pulls my hand so I sit next to him. "Relax, Hazel." He puts his hand over my shoulder. “You got this," he says. "Routine,” he says. “We stick to her routine. I can do that." I nod. “I might need some help because, well, I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing."
"Well." I look over at him. “I can tell you that you’re doing a good job."
"If I fuck up, I am going to need you to tell me." I smile at him.
"Trust me, if you fuck up"—I smile big—“it will be my pleasure to tell you."
His hand drops from my shoulder now as he laughs out loud. "I’ve been in war zones,” he says to me, his face looking out toward the trees. “And I’m more scared than I have been in my whole life." His voice trails off, and nothing could have prepared me for what is coming next.
Chapter 21
Reed
I put my hands on my knees, looking out in front of me. “What else is on your list?" I ask Hazel, looking at her.
"If I do something you don’t like …" I look over at her again and fuck if she isn’t as beautiful as she was all those nights ago. More beautiful than I remember, she is wearing another pair of yoga pants and a white T-shirt tucked into the front. The same thing she was wearing this morning, but seeing her again still takes my breath away. "Or if you do something I don’t like, we talk to each other without Sofia."
"I would think that is a given,” I say. “But I have no idea. I’ll never put you down in front of her."
"Punishments,” she says and holds her hands up. “I don’t spank her, never have had to. She’s a great kid, and she is well behaved."
"She’s the best,” I say. “I know I’m biased, but in the two days I’ve known her, I can see how fucking amazing she is, and it’s all because of you. I can’t ever repay you." I stop talking, hoping I can say more, but I know I have to tread lightly. “I won’t spank her." I shake my head, the thought making my stomach hurt.
"Fuck, when she told me she fell on that fucking rock …" I point at the field that we cleared today. “I swear on everything, I wanted to blow up the fucking rock with a bazooka." Hazel laughs now. “It’s not funny. I had this rage in me." I shake my head. “Besides, I don’t ever remember getting a spanking when we were growing up." I try to think back. “I don’t think I ever got spanked." I laugh. “I mean, there were times I thought my father was going to ream my ass, but I sort of knew the tone.” She nods her head, agreeing with me. “If my father said it in a certain tone, I knew if I fucked with him, he would have me over his knee. Remember when I crashed his car at fourteen.” Her eyes open big now.
“Oh my God, I remember that,” she says. “We didn’t see you for a month."
"Because I mucked fucking stalls for a month from six a.m. until six p.m.,” I say, laughing. "I even tried to go to summer school to get out of it, but nothing helped. At one point, my hand was stuck from holding a rake all day long."
She can’t stop laughing, and I, for one, will listen to her laugh every single day of my life. Talking to her has always been so fucking easy. “But you never ever drove again until you got your license." She pushes my shoulder with her own. "Pops had a look, and I knew. He didn’t give it to me often." She shakes her head now, most likely remembering that look. “I knew that it would be bad. All it took was a look, and I knew that whatever I was doing, I better fucking stop."
"I got that look once,” I say, slapping my leg. “It was a Sunday barbecue. Christopher and I were chasing you. I think we were eleven or twelve. I couldn’t catch you, so I pulled your bra strap from the back." I watch her to see if she remembers, but she just looks at me with her eyebrows pinched together. In the dark, I can’t see her eyes, but when they sparkle, it’s the best. “I turned to the side and saw Pops standing there, and I almost shit my pants from the look he gave me. I never touched another bra strap again. Plus, it didn’t help that he was standing with Grandpa, and his look said that if Pops didn’t kick my ass, he would." Her head goes back, and she laughs.