Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 83858 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83858 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
She reads.
For K.V., who is not an angel, but made me believe I could be something better than the devil.
Her eyes go wide. She looks up at me, and I see the old fire there, the spark I thought I’d extinguished.
I take a breath, then say: “I know I don’t deserve you. I know you could burn this place down and walk away smiling. But I want you to know I’m trying. I’m going to keep trying. For as long as you’ll let me.”
She closes the book, presses it to her chest. For a second, she says nothing.
Then, softly: “You messed up, you know.”
I nod. “I know. Big time, and I’m sorry about that.”
She lets out a breath, slow, measured. “But you wrote three hundred pages as a homage to us. To our time together.”
I smile. “I couldn’t help it. And I have three hundred more, if you’ll let me”
She takes a step closer, until we’re just inches apart. I can feel her heat, see the pulse in her neck.
“Buy me a coffee,” she says.
I blink. “Now? It’s almost eight.”
“Now, Talon.”
I nod, and for the first time in months, I feel the ice in my chest start to melt.
We walk to the counter, side by side. She orders a black coffee. I get the same. We sit in the back corner, not touching, but close enough. The air is thick with the smell of old books and new beginnings.
For a long time, we just drink, not talking.
Then Kat says, “If you ever lie to me again, I don’t know what I’ll do, Talon. I just survived something that I thought I’d never survive. I came out the other end, and I’m not sure if I’m willing to go through that again.”
My heart drops, and I look down at the table.
“I’m sorry, Kat,” I repeat again. “It wasn’t my intention. I’ve always been bad with relationships, and being with you was astonishing. For the first time, I didn’t feel boxed in, even though we were living in close quarters. I felt like I was free, and could be who I wanted to be. There was a woman in my bed every night, and we connected not just physically, but emotionally too. It threw me for a loop, and when we had the big fight, I didn’t know how to react. I guess I don’t have much practice,” I say in a rueful tone. “Usually, I just go stone cold during fights, and then she leaves.”
Kat fixes me with this big blue eyes.
“That’s what happened with us. You were cruel, and I left. You did nothing.”
I nod.
“I know, but I realized almost immediately how I’d fucked up. That I never should have let you leave. I tried to contact you, but you wouldn’t reply, and for a while, I even thought I had the wrong number. We never tested it at the cabin, after all.”
The beautiful blonde shakes her head, her blue eyes flashing.
“No, never,” she says in a quiet voice. “But what now?”
I try to go to the humorous route.
“Other than me prostrating myself and begging forgiveness?”
She cracks a small smile, and my heart leaps with hope.
“Other than that.”
I pause for a moment because I know my next words will make or break our future. Together or apart, what I say matters, and when I say it is crucial. It was a painful lesson to learn, but I’m determined not to fuck it up again. I don’t want to hurt this woman because she means everything to me, and I fix her with my piercing blue gaze.
“Now, we talk.”
17
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN – CONFESSIONS
Talon
The table between us is silent. My heart’s in my throat as I gaze at the gorgeous girl before me because what is she going to say? I’ve stated my desire to talk, but I’m not sure Kat’s onboard. She looks wary, her plush pout pulled into a line, fingers wrapped tight around her mug as if she’s afraid it’ll get up and leave. Her posture says she’s ready to bolt, but her eyes keep pinning me, waiting for the confession I promised.
My hands are sweating. I try to hide it by tearing open a sugar packet and dumping the grains into my Americano, but I doubt she’s fooled. The whole room smells of burned beans and bookstore dust and something tense, like old paper about to catch fire.
I clear my throat, stall, trying to summon my courage. “You want the truth. Not the teaser, not the back-cover blurb. The unabridged version.”
Kat gives a single nod, eyes never leaving my face.
I drum my fingers on the table, look at the surface of the coffee, the oily sheen swirling like a black hole. “You know how in my books, there’s always a twist? That’s not just a device, it’s a disease. I’ve been doing this—setting up traps, second-guessing everyone, myself most of all—for years. It’s the only way I know how to get close to people.”