Total pages in book: 166
Estimated words: 160356 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 802(@200wpm)___ 641(@250wpm)___ 535(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 160356 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 802(@200wpm)___ 641(@250wpm)___ 535(@300wpm)
If a cannon ball hit me in the stomach right now, I wouldn’t feel it. Because the weight of that statement feels like it’s knocked me out.
He’s falling for me?
I don’t have the capacity to unpack that in this moment, but I vow to myself to revisit it as soon as cognitive thinking is mine again.
He’s smouldering so fiercely as he holds me tight to his body, our breathing ragged, mixing between our close mouths. “I’m not going to be a man you fuck and forget, Camryn,” he whispers, his fingertip tracing back down my cheek to my bottom lip. “There won’t be any walks of shame, you won’t be slipping out in the dead of night and disappearing into the darkness. When I make love to you, we’re moving on to the next stage, and I want you to accept that before I take you home, not because you desperately need me inside you right now, but because you’re falling for me too.”
He sees me. He sees my pain.
No.
He wants to understand my pain. Understand so he can help me overcome it.
I’m so tired of hating the world.
I want to make you love it again. Is that possible?
Is it?
Can he?
My mind feels as if it could explode under the pressure of thoughts pouring in, quickly filling my head to capacity. I haven’t got it in me to unravel this now. It’s too . . . charged. But I do know one thing beyond all the things I’m sure I don’t know.
I am falling for him too.
I want him to make love to me, not fuck me. I want him to hug me, kiss me, talk to me, listen, give me those smiles on repeat. It’s lightened up my world, offered a reprieve in my tragedy-filled existence.
I can’t hope for him to be my cure, I know I will never be completely cured, but I can hope he eases my heartache and gives me something to live for.
I swallow, what I’m about to say feeling so monumental.
Because it is.
“I’m falling for you too,” I say. “I’ve been falling for you since the moment you caught me on the pavement and walked me home.”
His answer is a suppressed, satisfied groan, as he lifts me and seals our lips.
Seals the deal.
We’re falling.
Together.
I get utterly lost in his worshipful kiss. “Do you trust yourself?” he murmurs around my mouth, sweeping his tongue through, delaying my answer.
“No,” I admit, halting our kiss in its tracks. “But I trust you.”
He nods, setting me on my feet and framing my face with both hands, pushing his mouth onto my forehead. “Time to go.”
I’m led out of the ladies’ back into the bar. Dec finds my coat and holds it open, helping me into it before getting his own on as I switch my heels for my boots. He grabs my bag, then the jumper off the bar and chucks it to Julio. “Merry Christmas.” Two twenties follow the jumper. “It was nice knowing you.”
Translated: you won’t see us again.
I look back over my shoulder as I’m being pulled from the bar, hearing Julio laughing behind the jumper. “Nice knowing you,” I say quietly, throwing him a smile when his face appears.
He mouths something to me, tapping his chest as he does.
Be brave.
My God, am I that transparent?
I nod, repeating the mantra over and over as Dec walks us through the lobby and past reception. “Where are we going?”
“You think I’m taking you to a hotel room, Camryn?” he says, not stopping.
“Wait, we’re going to your house?”
“Yes, we’re going to my house.” He looks back as he pushes round the revolving door, making sure I get in the same section as him. “Problem?”
“This suddenly feels very serious,” I murmur, and Dec laughs, the same, soulful laugh he laughed earlier over the jumper. I smile at the back of his head.
“In you get.” He pulls open the back door of the grey Defender, and I take a deep breath, getting in.
“Evening,” the driver says, the same guy I saw outside Dec’s office.
“Evening.” I settle in my seat, Dec climbing in after me, and watch as he taps at the screen of his phone.
“Home, please, Ron.”
“Sure thing, boss.” He flicks his eyes to me in the rearview mirror, and though I can’t see his face, I know he’s smiling. I look away, down to my hand when Dec takes it, still focused on his phone. It’s an unconscious move. Natural.
“I’ve just got to take care of a few things before I turn off my notifications.”
“Okay.”
“Done.”
“That was quick.”
“It’s amazing how fast I work when there’s something special waiting for my attention.”
“I’m not waiting for your attention.”
“No, you’re not. You have it.”
His phone rings in his hand, Dad lighting the screen. Dec rejects the call. “I thought you said your father’s dead,” I say, confused.