Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 67095 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67095 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
“I hope so,” I agree.
She squeezes my fingers, then lets them go as we head through the automatic doors and step outside. We spy a few cabs parked on the curb and both head in that direction.
“Call if you’re not going to be home, so I don’t worry.”
“Sure, Mom.” I roll my eyes.
She laughs while getting into the cab parked behind mine.
When I arrive at Wesley’s place about twenty minutes later, I feel my stomach in my throat. I head down to his apartment door, knock and ring the bell, and wait for him to answer.
Time ticks by. No answer. This lets me know that either he’s really not home or he knows it’s me and doesn’t want to see me. After ten minutes, I give up and wave down a cab. As soon as I’m in the backseat, the driver asks me where I’m going. Without thinking, I give him the name of the bar where Wesley and I met. I know it’s a long shot, but it’s the only place I can think he might be.
“Please be here,” I whisper to myself as I open the door to Charlie’s and step inside.
I scan the crowded room and let out a relieved breath when I spot Wesley sitting at the bar—alone. His shoulders are slumped like he’s carrying the weight of the world on them.
“Do you need some company?” I ask, sliding onto the empty stool next to his.
His head slowly turns my direction.
“What are you doing here?” he asks.
I hate the hurt I see staring back at me. I hate knowing that I’m part of the reason that he’s hurting even more.
“It’s kind of a sad story.” I wave off the bartender when she comes over to ask if I want a drink. I place my purse on the top of the bar. “You see, I messed up with this guy I like. I’ve stupidly been trying to push him away. I thought that if I could end it before he did that I would be saving myself from embarrassment. I thought it was only a matter of time until he figured out that I wasn’t who he wanted.”
“Did he let you push him away?” he asks, holding my gaze.
I duck my head.
“I don’t know yet. But if he does, I deserve it,” I whisper the truth, feeling tears burn my throat.
“He’d be an idiot to let you go,” he says softly. He touches his fingers to my chin to lift my eyes up to his.
Hope fills my chest.
“I’m not sure about that. I’m kind of a pain in the ass, and I have a tendency to run when things scare me,” I say.
He grunts and turns toward me on the stool so that his knees lock around mine.
“Are you done running?” he asks while sliding his hands up my thighs, making my breath catch.
“I’m scared,” I admit.
He closes his eyes and touches his forehead to mine.
“Me too.” His admission catches me off guard, and my body jolts. “But I’m not running, and I need to know that you’re going to give us a chance—a real chance,” he murmurs, sliding his hands around my waist as I wind my arms around his neck to get closer.
“I can do that,” I agree.
He stands, forcing me to stand with him. His hands move to my ass, and he lifts me off the ground.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Taking you out of here.” He dips his mouth close to my ear and says, “I need to be alone with you. I need to be inside of you.”
“Oh . . . ,” I whisper.
“Now wrap your legs around my waist and grab your purse,” he commands.
I do as he says, having no doubt that everyone in the bar is watching us.
“So bossy.” I roll my eyes, and he smiles, touching his lips to mine. “Are you still mad at me?” I ask as he carries me out of the bar and onto the sidewalk.
He sticks out one hand for a cab while keeping me propped up against his body with the other one still under my bottom.
“I wasn’t mad. I was disappointed.”
“I think that’s worse,” I admit.
His mouth touches mine once more, but then he makes it even better by sliding his tongue between my lips.
Nipping at my lip, he pulls back. “No more hiding, no more running.”
“No more running,” I say as he helps me into the backseat of a cab that stops. “Are you sure you are ready for my mom to know about us? As you may have figured out when you met her at Thanksgiving, she is insane. Nosy and insane.”
“You said insane twice.”
“Trust me, it should be repeated more than once. I don’t think you understand. She tried to set me up with her fifty-year-old neighbor because she is desperate for grandbabies,” I say, watching his eyes narrow. Rolling my eyes at his reaction, I smack his chest. “I didn’t even talk to him. I couldn’t get you off my mind no matter how hard I tried.”