Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
He probably heard the vibration but ignored it. His fingers lightly touched my hair along my back, showing an affection he’d seemed incapable of giving when we first met.
My first day of work was tomorrow morning, and now I wished I hadn’t taken that job. I had no idea what time it was now, but it was probably past midnight. I wished I could stay up until dawn and sleep all day.
“Need to set an alarm?” he asked.
“I don’t want to sleep.” I was dead tired, could barely keep my eyes open, but I didn’t want this to end.
He tapped the screen of his phone, and I saw the time. It was 3:15.
“God…”
He grabbed his phone and set an alarm for me.
“I don’t want a job anymore.”
He smirked before he reached for the lamp and turned it off. “There’s the weekends.”
“But the weekend isn’t now.”
The room went dark, and then he turned to me, hooking my leg over his hip, the two of us sharing the same pillow in the same bed, his muscles so warm they felt like a gentle fire. He closed his eyes with his face close to mine.
My fingers went to his jawline, and I felt the shadow there, the prickle of the coarse hair.
He grinned slightly. “You remind me of a kid who’s fighting bedtime.”
“It’s hard to sleep when it feels like Christmas.”
His eyes opened and he looked at me, the smile disappearing as the seriousness returned. He stared at me for a while, his fingers gently moving over my soft skin underneath the sheets.
I was probably being too forward with him now, but it was hard to swallow back the word vomit when it had already flooded your mouth. It was hard to cage the emotions that had already sprouted wings and wanted to fly.
“Stay with me for the weekend.”
I blinked several times as I looked at him. “The whole weekend?”
“Yeah.”
“Like two and a half days.”
“I know how the weekend works.”
“Well…that’s a lot of me.”
He stared for a while. “Doesn’t feel like a lot.”
19
LUCA
When I walked inside the bar, he was already there, seated in the booth facing me, arms on the table, sleeves pushed to his elbows, his bright-blue eyes the only kind feature he possessed. Dimly lit with hardly anyone there at one in the morning, the place felt like it belonged to the two of us.
With frustration already heavy in my heart, I sat across from him. He had already ordered a drink for me. I sank into the back of the booth, scanned the room I already knew was empty, and then looked at him again.
His stare was as cold as mine.
I grabbed the glass and took a drink.
“You want to start, or you want me to start?” Bastien asked.
“You already know the answer.” I didn’t want to be here. Didn’t want to be interrogated. But there was no dodging Bastien when his sights were set.
“Why are you being this way?”
“What way?”
Irritation flashed across his eyes even though he’d probably expected the conversation to go this way. “Like a cunt.”
I gave a quiet scoff then took a drink.
“I told you everything about Fleur from the day I met her, and you’re keeping me in the dark about Aliénor but telling her I’m like a brother to you.”
“I didn’t ask about Fleur. You told me about her.”
“Because you’re my brother.”
“Because we’re different men, Bastien. You’ve always been a talker. Always been good with words and expressing yourself and shit. I’m so far the opposite.”
“Really?” he challenged. “Because I remember sitting in Holybelly with you while you told me how much my retirement has bothered you.”
My eyes flicked away.
“That you miss me.”
“I never said those words.”
“Whether you did or didn’t, they were implied.”
I grabbed the glass and took another drink, falling deeper into this prison.
“But you won’t tell me a damn thing about Aliénor. I had to find out from Carvel.”
“He only knew because he was there.”
“I don’t give a shit whether he was there or not. Why am I hearing about this important relationship from anyone else but you?”
I sighed. “We aren’t chicks—”
“We’re family,” he snapped. “But I walk into Holybelly and see you two together, and you stab me with the knives in your eyes. I’ve seen you with women before, and you never give me the cold shoulder like that. So what the fuck is your problem, Luca?” Good thing there was no one in the bar because of how he raised his voice. “Tell me.”
My eyes flicked away as I massaged my knuckles.
He turned silent, but his eyes continued to press me.
I withdrew my elbows from the table and took a breath. “I don’t know what’s happening…”
Bastien continued his hard stare, but the sharpness in his eyes dulled.
“I don’t know what’s happening,” I repeated, unable to find better words to describe it.