Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 92848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
In hindsight, it seems strange that I would feel that way since Ford was only eighteen years old. But I can’t deny the truth. I knew he’d never allow anything bad to happen to me.
And he didn’t.
A heavy silence falls over us.
When he doesn’t immediately agree, it occurs to me that I made a mistake.
Is there anything worse than sounding like a needy bitch?
Ugh.
Why did I have to open my big fat mouth?
I should have allowed him to quietly slip from the room.
Just when I’m about to tell him to forget it, his fingers settle on the hem of his T-shirt before he drags it up his chest and over his head. He drops the material to the carpet before flicking open the button of his jeans for a second time tonight and lowering the zipper. The thick denim gets shoved down muscular legs until he’s standing in nothing more than a pair of black boxer briefs.
My gaze licks greedily over him.
How could it not?
Ford has the body of a Greek god. He’s sun kissed and sculpted from hours spent on the ice and in the gym.
I don’t bother with pajamas as I slide beneath the sheet and comforter. He settles beside me before stretching out and pulling me to him. It takes a moment for my muscles to loosen as my head settles against his chest. The scent of his woodsy aftershave wraps around me, cocooning me in the past.
If I closed my eyes, I’d be right back there again.
To a place where we were friends.
Our relationship always teetered on the edge of something more, bursting with possibilities.
At least, that’s the way it felt.
The mere sight of Ford could send my pulse skyrocketing and my hormones into a tailspin. We spent hours kissing and touching, never pushing the limits, but I always assumed that Ford would be my first.
I wanted him to be my first.
But that never happened.
It was like the flick of a light switch. One day we were close and the next, he was cold and distant. He refused to talk about what prompted the change, leaving me to figure it out on my own.
End of story.
After that, I never allowed another guy to know me the way he did.
The way he probably still does.
“Tell me what you’re thinking about,” he whispers, warm breath stirring my hair.
My gaze stays pinned to the far wall filled with hundreds of pictures from high school and college as memories of our past crash over me like a wave. It’s tempting to lie, but there’s something about being held securely within his arms that compels me to be honest.
“That it’s been a long time since we’ve done this.”
“February of senior year.” His voice turns somber as if I’m the one who pushed him away and broke his heart.
“Yeah.”
“I’ve missed holding you,” he admits softly.
I squeeze my eyes tightly closed and try to keep my voice level. “I’ve missed it, too.”
Questions flood my brain. They sit perched on the tip of my tongue. Instead of allowing them to burst free, I bite them back and swallow them down again.
There’s no reason to bring them up.
This isn’t anything more than sex.
If I’m lucky, we’ll knock boots and that’ll be the end of it. We can put all this behind us where it belongs.
“Carina—”
“After all that dancing, I’m really tired. Do you mind if we just go to sleep?”
There’s a moment of hesitation before he tugs me even closer. “Yeah. Sure.”
That’s exactly how I drift off.
Locked up tight in his arms while listening to the steady thump of his heart.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Ford
It’s the bright sunlight filtering through my eyelids that has me gradually surfacing from the best sleep I’ve had in a while. It’s only when I shift that I become aware of the warm body curled up against mine. I rack my brain, wondering what the hell happened last night and who I took home.
Well…not home.
Because I don’t bring girls back to the apartment. If I fuck, it’s at their place. Or a room at a party.
Another thing?
I never stay the night. That sets a bad precedent.
Maybe I’ll stick around and cuddle for fifteen minutes or so, but as soon as they fall asleep, I sneak away like a thief in the night and hope like hell that when I run into them on campus, there aren’t any hurt feelings.
I’m not going to lie—sometimes there are. I’ve had my ass chewed out in front of a handful of people on more than one occasion.
It takes effort to pry my eyelids open. It’s like they’re cemented shut. One glance around the room and I realize exactly where I am, which is a shock to the system. That’s all it takes for last night to slam into me at lightning speed. Images flash through my brain one on top of another before I’m fully able to process them.