Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 104570 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 523(@200wpm)___ 418(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104570 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 523(@200wpm)___ 418(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
“I’m plenty sober. We’re back, so I don’t want you leaving. Besides, it’s already morning.”
He scoops me up, lifting me off the couch, and walks us straight to the bedroom.
“I promise I won’t do anything stupid,” he says, yawning again. “But your couch sucks. I want a bed.”
I don’t argue or remind him that I have a guest room with a perfectly good bed. The last time he was in this room, he was making fireworks explode inside my body. But I force those thoughts away.
I can somehow justify that night with the excuse he needed it. It’s the only way to keep this from getting awkward.
Corbin slides in behind me after putting me on my side of the bed, and his arms hold me to him as he turns into a big spoon. This definitely crosses boundaries, but it feels too good to ask him to let go.
“Ruby?” he says, kissing my shoulder.
“Yeah?”
He hesitates, like he suddenly doesn’t want to say anything, but finally, he blows out a resolved breath.
“I’m sorry I broke us.”
My heart clenches, and I try not to feel the heat of the tears pricking my eyes.
“You didn’t break us, Corbin. You just reminded us what we really are,” I lie, because he sure as hell broke me. But I love him, and I want him in my life. Even if it isn’t the way I used to want him in my life.
Just as the sun starts to peek through my window, Corbin kisses my shoulder again. “I’ve missed this,” he whispers, and a flutter of emotions rattle through me.
I’ve missed this too.
CHAPTER 21
RUBY
Corbin is tangled around me, and I panic when I see the sun fully in the air. Holy shit! I was supposed to open the shop at noon today!
Carefully, I disentangle myself from his arms, and he groans in his sleep, searching me out subconsciously. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t feel good to witness it.
He mumbles my name, and I grin bigger before rolling my eyes. We just mended our friendship, so the last thing I need is to start getting girly all over again.
Quickly, I tug on some clothes and toss my hair up on my head. I’ve never gotten ready so fast, and I’ve never been so thankful to see a toothbrush. Fun brownies have a horrible, lingering after taste.
Corbin is hugging the blanket when I walk back out of the bathroom, and I have to hold back a laugh when he kisses it like he kisses my forehead.
I grab my phone and groan. I wish I had read my messages before getting ready like a hurricane.
Dad has been blowing up my texts.
Don’t worry about the shop. I’ll be working today.
Some guy name Rye called and said your Bug was ready for pickup. Guess that means you’ve found your car.
Is that boy still there?
Wanda says you won’t have a headache. Hope she’s right.
At least I don’t have to worry about Wicked Ink.
Like a total creeper, I watch as Corbin rolls onto his back, keeping his arm under the blanket like he’s supporting it. Without an ounce of shame, I let my eyes roam over his shirtless upper body.
I always smile when I see my name tattooed on the side of his arm. His name… I should have known he’d dare me to put it where he did. That has always taken some serious explaining in my relationships.
He has several tattoos. Some are on his back. Some are on his chest. Most of them are completely random, at best. The skull wrapped in roses is my favorite piece. It’s on his back, and I remember spending two-hour long intervals completing that piece for days.
His newest tattoo is his Sterling tattoo over his left pec. It’s not big and flashy, but it’s a reminder of who he is. I didn’t do that one, but I remember the night he called to ask me to open the shop for him. We were so not ready for business. I was in Vegas, but I still made the call.
I’ve rarely ever told Corbin no.
He twists a little, and I decide to stop staring like the Goth girl with a crush on the high school quarterback.
Coffee. I need a lot of coffee. Even if it is four in the freaking afternoon.
And my car…
Rye’s garage isn’t too far from here, so I decide to get my daily jog in. It takes about fifteen minutes, and I’m breathy by the time I reach it. But I see my red baby, and she doesn’t appear to be damaged in any way.
I go to bang on the garage door, ready to kick some mechanic ass, but it’s locked up tight. There’s a sign on the door that claims the garage is closing early today.
That chicken knew I’d be pounding on his door.