Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 87368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
“Thatcher,” she whispers, her body trembling beside mine. “Don’t you see how much this terrifies me?”
“I do,” I say, staying where I am so I don’t attack her to make it all better. “But can’t you see that I just want a chance to explain myself, to show you what I wanted before I made a jackass of myself?”
She presses her lips together. “I don’t know.”
Unable to resist, I turn so that my front meets her side. She looks up at me as I snake an arm around her to pull her to me. She struggles only a tiny bit before she is plastered to my chest, her eyes on me as she sucks in big lungfuls of air. I lean in so that our foreheads almost touch. Our noses are so close, just as close as our lips, but I don’t allow mine to touch hers. I only want to be near her, for her to see the desperation in my eyes. Her eyes are full of lust as she gazes up at me, heaving air in and out.
“Dushen’ka,” I practically plead, “give me a chance to show you how good it can be between us.”
“Thatcher, I know how good it can be. But I also know how bad it can be.”
I’m shaking my head before she even finishes her sentence. “That won’t happen ever again. I will never allow myself to take my fears and anger out on you like that.”
“You can’t say that. I’m going to piss you off at some point.”
“You’re right and I’ll do the same to you, but we’ll communicate.”
She scoffs. “’Cause we’re so great at communication. Even our families know we suck when it comes to each other.”
“So, let’s change that,” I say, holding her gaze. I brush her jaw with my thumb. “I’m communicating my need to take you to this party so that everyone can see our gorgeous daughter with her parents.” The pride in that sentence slams into me. I want that. I want to be Arwen’s parents, not just her biological dad and mom, but her parents who are together, if that makes sense. “Still communicating,” I tell her and her lips curve. “I need to take you out. I need to sit across from you, without prying ears and a little girl who demands our attention, to spill my guts to you.”
“Your guts?”
“My whole fucking soul,” I answer, moving my hand up to brush my thumb along her jaw. “I should have done it so long ago.”
She takes in a deep breath, her eyes locked on mine, and I can feel her heart thudding against my chest. “I’m communicating that I’m scared I’ll fall desperately in love with you.”
My heart promptly explodes at her admission. “Good. That’s what I want.” Her eyes widen. “Say yes, Audrina. Go to the party with me, and then let me take you out before I leave for a week.”
Her lip trembles, but I can see the excitement in her eyes.
The love for me.
And I feel like I just scored a game-seven winner in the play-offs when she whispers, “Okay.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Arwen asked for Thatcher to stay in bed with us again.
He eagerly agreed.
And while they slept, I traced his face with my eyes like I was memorizing my favorite song. And, in a way, the sharp angles of his face, the curve of his nose, the scar on his lip where he got hit with a stick and had teeth knocked out, all sing to me like a love ballad. He’s so unbelievably handsome, I couldn’t look away if I tried. I spent so many years in awe of him, but I never admitted it. Never explained how much I love the way his dark hair falls over his temples and brows. How he never truly shaves, only trims the hair along his jaw. That when he flashes me that wicked grin of his, my heart feels as if it is sprouting roses from the arteries.
Communication.
Why does that word scare me so much? He was a staple in my life. He was always there, and we got along great. But admitting that I feel something for him, that I have loved him for as long as I can remember in a non-brotherly way, has always tied me in knots. Not only was I scared of the rejection but also of the change that it would bring to our families.
Funny thing is, I was right all along. Or was I?
When his lips met mine all those years ago, it was perfect. It was right, and I wholeheartedly agree it could have been something if I hadn’t made the mistake of sleeping with Dart before then. That threw a wrench into Thatcher’s and my relationship and ended up ruining something before it even got started. We weren’t together, but from the way he acted, I should have suspected he felt something for me. At the time, I thought it was an “I don’t want my sister sleeping with my teammate” thing, but a brother wouldn’t get teary-eyed over something like that.