Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 69772 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69772 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
I was planning on it. By pissing her way the hell off.
Then, hopefully, doing what we did best, reconnecting with our bodies. The one and only thing that we could always do that put us on the same page.
I didn’t know if this was the best time for it. I mean, it’d been three and a half weeks since she’d miscarried.
Hence why I’d called Ande in the first place.
To make sure that we were allowed.
I’d had her call her doctor and ask for me.
“Can she have sex?” I asked Ande.
Ande winced. “I mean, yes. She can. I’m not going to say that she’s going to want to, though.”
I shrugged. “I’m not going to say she does or doesn’t, but I’m about to make her really, really pissed off. And we do our best talking after…”
Ande held up her hand so I wouldn’t finish. “I do not want to know.”
“Love you, Ande,” I said. “Gotta go.”
I was a nervous wreck.
I just wanted to get Shayne to leave the bed…
Drawing in a fortifying breath, I headed into the bedroom and flipped on the light.
She shifted, pulling the blanket up high over her head.
I ignored her and the way she looked and headed for the closet where I pulled out a pair of her jeans, a t-shirt that was mine, and a sweatshirt that was also mine.
Catching socks on the way back to the bed, I ripped the covers off of her body and threw them to the ground.
She glared hard at me.
Even with her hair a greasy mess, she was still the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.
“Time to get up,” I urged.
She rolled over, giving me her back, and… I lost it.
I ripped the sheet off next, then her pants.
“What are you doing?” she squeaked as she tried to pull her sweatpants—my sweatpants—back on.
I could say that, at least.
Over the last month that she’d been here, she’d been wearing all of my clothes.
I didn’t think I even saw any of her clothes in the laundry over the last month besides her panties.
The next thing to go were her underwear and the t-shirt—again, mine. I hadn’t seen that particular one since high school, which made me smile inside.
Hell, over the last month, I’d seen a lot of my clothes that’d mysteriously gone missing over the years.
“Quinn!” She reached for the pillow that’d fallen off the bed in our scuffle, her ass going high in the air to do it.
And I might or might not have had impure thoughts about her in that moment.
I persevered, though, forcing myself—and my dick—to calm down.
“Nope,” I said as I reached for the pillow and tossed it across the room.
She was furious now, I could see the anger in her eyes flaring to life.
The hot fire that always sent me into a tailspin when it came to her… Goddamn, it was amazingly beautiful.
That fire was the best fuckin’ thing in the world.
“You’re a psychopath, Quinn!” she screamed, throwing her hands up.
Again, I might or might not have reacted to those beautiful tits of hers bouncing with her movement.
Pissed.
She was so freakin’ pissed.
Even worse, it’d been my fault.
But I couldn’t watch her waste her life away anymore.
She needed to get up.
She needed to go to work.
She needed to fly.
She needed to talk to me.
She needed to live life.
Right now she was just existing, and it was hurting my fucking heart.
“At least I’m on a path, Shayne!” I accused, pointing my finger at her which I knew would piss her off even more. “Watching you waste away in this dark room is fucking killing me!”
Except, the anger didn’t come.
It died.
Just as quickly as it was there, it was gone.
In its place was bone deep sadness that sent my heart to withering inside of my chest.
She crumpled forward. “I killed our baby.”
I caught her, pulling her into my arms.
I closed my eyes as a wave of grief nearly knocked the wind out of me.
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” I promised, smoothing her hair back from her face.
She hung her head. “I don’t feel fine. I feel like I’m drowning.”
I carried her into the shower, feeling my lungs seize in my chest with each sob that left her beautiful lips.
The ache, it was all encompassing.
I wanted to squeeze her so hard that her body and soul fused with mine.
I wanted to hold her, and never let her go.
I wanted to spend my every remaining day here, with her, doing only this.
But I forced myself to reach into the shower and flip it to its highest setting.
“When I put this shower in,” I said as I pressed the button to turn it on. “I programmed you setting number one. It’s the hottest the shower will get.” I pressed that button, knowing damn well I was about to be in a world of pain. “One hundred and seventeen degrees. That’s the hottest the dial goes up to. I think it might be a little bit hotter, though. I’ve never tested it.”