Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 89074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
At first I was trying to make a joke of it, then it all broke down into something too real.
Don’t leave me alone?
That isn’t something I’ve ever heard come out of my own mouth.
I thrive when I’m alone.
I don’t beg people to stay with me.
Rayne’s expression softens, and I feel more vulnerable now than I ever do when I’m naked.
What the fuck am I saying to him?
And why is he still smiling at me rather than running away, far and fast, like he should do?
“Attached to me much?” he says, and the way his dimples come out makes my heart do something weird.
He’s joking, even after an evening like this.
Rayne is so capable of being kind, happy, and sweet, even when he’s faced with a semester that would freak most people out.
And even when he’s around me.
Just act fucking normal, Knox.
I shrug a shoulder. “You still need my protection, even if Wes and I are being targeted, now, too. If I get to have fun holding your cock while you piss, that’s just a side benefit.”
He lets out a breath, shaking his head a little as he looks me up and down. “Why do I love how crazy you are? Am I crazy?”
“Because for some reason you’re just as fucked in the head as me, you just don’t show it. Go ahead, king. Promise I’ll hold it another time.”
He puffs out a little laugh and swings open the bathroom door. “Can’t wait.”
Just as he’s about to walk in, I reach out and grab his hand.
“What’s up?” he asks. He stops and turns around, looking back at me.
And that sweet look on his face completely fucking breaks me.
“You are… you’re perfect,” I say. “Never doubt that about yourself, okay?”
I say it before I can stuff the words back in.
Knowing it’s not something I should say.
Knowing I mean it more than I should.
But all I can picture is the intensely personal secret he wrote for the Confessional.
He keeps my hand in his and tugs me a little closer in the hallway. There’s only an inch between us, and even though we’ve already fucked before, right now it feels like I’m in front of him for the first time.
That secret you wrote for me.
That thing I just said to you.
“Nice of you to feed my ego,” he murmurs, bringing a hand up to cup the side of my face.
“Being too nice to me again,” I say, my words barely audible.
“Seems like you were the one being nice to me.”
“You talk to me. You listen to me. You won me that little fucking cat that looks like Pearl. Why aren’t you running away from me, Rayne?”
“Because I like you,” he says, like it’s the simplest thing. “You still drive me insane, but I like you, too.”
When I put my lips against his, it feels more like a need than it ever has before.
I’m so tired of not knowing who is after us.
So tired of feeling like I’m failing at the one thing I should be good at, which is knowing how a deranged person thinks, and getting one step ahead of them.
And I need Rayne’s kiss in a way that scares me.
Because I’m starting to feel like I’m not going to know how to live without him.
He doesn’t kiss me like I’m some fucked-up secret, or like I’m a hate-fuck he plans on forgetting.
And if the world is going to crumble all around us, I need to have him right now.
I push in even closer.
I wish I could merge with him.
That clean laundry scent, and the faint hint of the sunscreen he puts on every morning.
When he moves down, kissing my neck, I breathe out softly, melting into his touch.
“God, I fucking want you so bad. All of the goddamn time, Rayne—”
“You have me,” he murmurs against my skin, then presses a trail of kisses up my neck and onto the side of my head. “I’m right here.”
I’m too lost in him to think about the fact that we’re in the hallway.
Too focused on the sound of his breath to think much about the stairs, just behind us.
And I forget how good Weston is at keeping quiet around a house.
Wes and I always used to sneak around at night, avoiding our father’s wrath if we ever made a sound that woke him up.
I suppose that’s how Weston ends up at the top of the stairs.
In the hall.
Behind us, without us knowing.
Rayne is holding me like I’m something precious to him. Like I’m his boyfriend, not some dark secret.
And I’m resting my head in the nook of his shoulder, kissing the lines of ink along his collarbone.
“Oh.”
That’s all Weston says to announce his presence.
And as Rayne and I look over, I keep one hand around Rayne’s waist. Not because I should, but because I feel like I’ll dissolve into a million pieces if I stop touching him.