Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 102834 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102834 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Derek shot her a cutting glare, his retort biting, “Shut it, Francesca.”
She was immediately silenced, but his defence didn’t do much to cut through my humiliation. Was this what I got for finally facing my fears and saying yes to a date with Derek Balfe? One of the best nights had somehow turned into one of the worst.
“I’d like to go home now,” I said in a quiet, steady voice while trying to maintain some composure and dignity. Derek tightened his arm around my waist, ushering me away from all the gaping spectators.
“Let’s go dry you off first,” he replied, guiding me towards one of the other rooms, but I shirked him off, stepping back.
“No, I’ll dry off when I get home.” My teeth continued to chatter as I met his gaze. “Goodnight, Derek.”
With that, I rushed away from him, but he was hot on my heels. I heard him only a few steps behind me, so I quickened my pace, driven by the need to escape this house, this night. I heard a few people ask questions like, “What the hell happened to her?” as I rushed by, but I did my best to block them out.
“Milly, where are you going? Let me drive you,” Derek called after me.
“No, thank you. I’ll make my own way h-home,” I shouted over my shoulder.
More tears fell as I broke into a run, and I made it out onto the street, managing to lose Derek in the process. I just needed to get away from the feeling of utter embarrassment. I might’ve had shorter legs than him, but I was fast. I was several houses down from Aidan’s when Derek finally caught up to me, catching my arm and gently wrapping his fingers around my biceps. Stopping in my tracks, I turned and saw he held my cardigan that I’d left back in the house. So that was how I managed to outrun him. I might’ve been fast, but I was clearly no match for Derek’s superior speed. He did run every day after all.
Still, he was a little out of breath, his chest rising and falling with his laboured breathing. His eyes flickered back and forth between mine as he took me in. “I’m going to murder my brother,” he said at last.
I swallowed past the lump in my throat, refusing to shed more tears in front of him. “It’s not Tristan’s fault. Like he said, the prank wasn’t meant for me.”
“Come back to the house, Milly. I’ll drive you home.”
I stood firm, lifting my chin. “I’m not going back there.”
He let out a heavy breath. “Fine, then I’m walking with you.”
“No, you—”
Before I could finish my protest, he stepped into my personal space, and his heat and scent invaded my senses. I was dumbstruck as he removed the jacket he’d placed around my shoulders a few minutes ago. Goosebumps lingered on my frozen skin, and my breath caught when, with careful hands, Derek helped me back into my cardigan. He tugged it tight around my body, making sure the fit was snug before he put the jacket back on. I stood in place, tingles dancing along the back of my neck as he tucked some hair behind my ear, his minty breath with the faint sweet hint of rum and Coke meeting my cheeks as he bent down and pressed his forehead to mine.
I swear all the air left my body when he asked in a rough, rumbly voice, “Better?”
I nodded silently, unable to form words. The contact sent a flurry of adrenaline through me and all I could do was try not to stare at his gorgeous lips.
Derek was being so kind and caring, and honestly, it wasn’t his fault that I’d fallen victim to his brother’s prank, which was meant for Aidan. It was my own fault for not paying attention to where I was going. Something about his warmth and heady scent had my mind travelling back to that day when he’d offered me a lift home, a warm shelter from the rain and hail. This was the second time he’d come to my rescue after I’d gotten drenched. Only tonight was far more upsetting because it had taken so much courage to say yes to his invite in the first place.
“I’m so fucking sorry, Milly,” he said, his voice pure gravel.
His forehead was still pressed to mine, and his proximity made me a little dizzy.
“You can walk me home,” I said at last and watched as his lips curved into a handsome smile. I felt his hand run along my shoulder and down my arm before his fingers slid between mine. He held my small hand in his much larger one, and my heart skipped a beat.
With both my cardigan and his jacket on me, I started to feel a modicum dryer and a little less like I was going to succumb to frostbite. During my studies, I’d read about how quickly people could freeze to death, but this was the first time I’d felt a sensation close to what those poor souls experienced when trapped in the cold.