Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 111165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 556(@200wpm)___ 445(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 556(@200wpm)___ 445(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
“Stay with me?” I ask him quietly. “I don’t want to sleep alone tonight.”
He’s stunned. “Are you sure?”
“I just need a friend right now,” I tell him so I won’t scare him.
He nods, his mouth forming an “oh.” “Of course,” he says after a beat. “Anything you need.”
Normally I would be extremely nervous about Laz spending the night. I’m talking popping back some pills, breathing into a paper bag kind of nervous.
But at this point, I am so spent, emotionally and physically, that I can’t be anxious at all. In fact, I’m craving him more than anything.
We head into the studio and I flick on the lights. The place is a mess but I don’t care. All I care about is that bed in the corner and the promise of his warm body beside me.
Wordlessly, I grab my night shirt and a pair of pajama pants from the dresser and head straight into the bathroom to change.
I look at myself in the mirror and barely recognize the person staring back at me. My eyes are swollen, puffy, bloodshot. I’m pale as a ghost. Dark circles ring my eyes. I don’t think I’ve ever looked worse.
But as I step out into the bedroom, I don’t care.
The lights are off except for the faint bedside lamp. Laz is standing by the bed, in his long T-shirt that nearly covers his black boxer briefs. Part of me wishes his shirt was off so I could properly ogle him (and by ogle, I mean get a good look at what kind of heat he’s packing) so I have to settle for a brief evaluation of his legs. Men’s legs are usually meh, but Laz has some good ones. I know he hits the gym and he must spend a lot of time on them because his calves are defined and his thigh muscles are thick and taut. I’ve seen his legs before, obviously when he’s in shorts at the beach but this time I feel like I can look at him differently, in all the ways I never let myself before.
“Which side is yours?” he asks, gesturing to the bed.
“The left.”
I walk over, conscious of my breasts swaying under the loose shirt and then get under the covers.
He goes around the other side and does the same.
It’s the first time we’ve been in bed together and I’m shocked at how natural it feels. How good. How right.
I love you.
I love you.
I love you.
“Good night,” I whisper to him as I reach over and flick off the lamp, putting us in darkness.
“Good night,” he says.
Then he reaches over for me and pulls me back into him as he moves forward, so he’s spooning me from behind, pressed hard against my back.
My body ignites from the feel of him against me, the flames only tempered by the tenderness in my heart.
It would be so easy to tilt my head back, pull his face down to mine. To kiss him. To fall into that kiss from last night. To pick up where we left off.
But it would get messy, fast. It would get wild. And I would lose myself to him when I’m feeling most vulnerable. I feel like my whole soul is an open wound right now and that if I’m not careful, if I’m not smart, I could do some serious, irreversible damage.
So I just let him hold me and for tonight, it’s enough. It’s more than enough. I’m by no means a small and dainty person but he’s just so large next to me that it’s impossible not to feel safe and protected. His height, his muscles, the breadth of his strong shoulders as his thick arms wrap around me, he’s my rock and anchor and everything I need him to be right now.
“Sweet dreams, sweet girl,” he murmurs to me, kissing the back of my head.
My heart flutters.
And I melt.
CHAPTER TEN
LAZ
“ALL THAT’S MINE”
“So do you think you can make it?” Abigail, my editor, says to me over the phone. “Again, I am so, so sorry that this is last minute. Things at the publishing house have been crazy lately, everyone is gearing up for the summer.”
“I can make it,” I tell her.
“Great, I’ll go ahead and book the flight and email you all the details.” She pauses. “Will you be going alone or should I try and get two seats. If I get two, then I’m afraid it can’t be a business class seat.”
“Uh,” I stammer. “I—I don’t know yet. I haven’t had a chance to process it…”
“I understand. How about you email me later today and let me know. Don’t want to wait too long, the LAX to New York flights are often sold out at such short notice.”
I tell her thank you and hang up, dazed.
My editor just called to tell me they’re having a book launch party in New York for the release of Everything’s Ruined, and obviously, they want me to attend. It’s a month before the actual release of the book, which is why the whole thing has caught me by surprise but she says it’s mainly for the review sites and there will be a lot of bloggers, press and industry people there, plus advanced review paperbacks to give out.