Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 101622 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101622 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
But the devil on my shoulder wins out . . . “Delaney?”
“Hmm?” Her eyes never open as the hum of her response is heard.
“What’s your last name?”
The slightest of grins curves the corners of her mouth, and she replies, “Bayetti.”
Now that’s information I can use. I kiss her on the forehead and whisper, “Good night.”
CHAPTER 16
Delaney
“Jesus, Warner!” I try breathing through the terror of waking up to him hovering over me like a murderer. “What are you doing?”
“Seeing if you’re still breathing.” He falls back to his side of the bed and leans against the headboard—shirtless, I might add, and laughing. Jerk.
“Apparently, it’s funny to you that my heart just flew out the window.”
“Is that where it went?” Since I just woke up, maybe I’m reading too much into his deadpan comment.
With my heart still beating out of my chest, I roll away from him and close my eyes, hoping to regulate my entire body back to what it was before Warner Landers entered my life. Or did I enter his? Doesn’t matter. We’re stuck in each other’s lives now. I’m starting to believe it will be for life at this rate.
His big paw of a hand wraps over my arm and rocks me back and forth. “Come on, Delaney. Don’t be mad.”
“Mad?” I close my eyes, so I don’t roll them. “I’m not mad. I’m trying to figure out what I did to deserve this hell.” Bet he’s smirking. I roll just enough to catch a glimpse of his face. Yep. Called it. “You find this so funny, don’t you?”
I’m not in the mood for this, at least not yet. It’s too early to remember the role I’m supposed to be playing, to have patience for this unreservedly fiend of a man, and morning ruiner to boot.
“Is it wrong if I do?” His slurping coffee injects an extra dose of aggravation into my bad mood. It’s like a cherry on top of this affront.
I push up and angle back, resting my weight on my hand. “It is wrong and dangerous if you want to live to see lunch.”
“Mornings got you down, sweetheart. You were just a sleepy little angel last night, and now, you wake up as a bear. Shitty sleep?”
“Nightmares all night.” I flip the covers from my body and swing my legs out. As soon as I touch down on the floor, I adjust the strap that had fallen off my shoulder, wanting to expose me to him. Traitor. “I dreamed there was this guy who thought he was the bee’s knees, but really he was just a coffee-slurping creeper who wanted to kill me.” I turn on my heel, the hair fallen out of my scrunchie swinging, and march into the bathroom.
Just before I close the door, he says, “I don’t want to kill you, Delaney.” Why does that not sound like the end of what he wants to say?
Piquing my interest, I hit him with a glare. “What do you want to do with me?” I know better, but setting the trap and watching him get caught is a new favorite pastime of mine. I cross my arms over my chest and tap my foot to add drama as I wait for him to react.
His eyes still hold a warmth when he stares back into mine, and asks, “Have you been initiated into the Mile High Club?” But then he had to open his mouth and ruin it.
I slam the door closed and start the shower. If I weren’t already in a bad mood, I might allow myself to realize I came in here like this is my bathroom, started the shower like I do it every morning, and walked around this apartment like I didn’t barge into his life without his permission. It’s not my life or my place. I can only imagine how this would look to the outside world. If my parents knew I was sleeping, as in actual sleep, with the man who is taking over the building and evicting us and the restaurant. I can’t let the shame of the act change the means to the end.
They’ll thank me one day. Of course, they don’t have to know the dirty details, only that the restaurant and our home are safe. I stick my hand inside the glass, and what I assume is marble, to test the water. It’s hot. The steam coats the glass as I strip off my top and then my undies, leaving them on the floor as I step under the spray. Closing my eyes, I let the water rain down on my face before I turn around and soak my hair.
The pummel on my shoulders eases the tension that the rude awakening has embedded in my muscles. I take the bottle of soap—a sleek shape with a modern design. I pop the top to inhale the scent that smells like heaven. Earthy yet exotic. I memorize the name to look this brand up so I can buy a bottle for myself at home.