Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 110360 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 552(@200wpm)___ 441(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110360 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 552(@200wpm)___ 441(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
He pressed his lips to the top of my head. It was so brief and gentle I wasn’t even sure he’d meant to do it. Then all at once his body sagged, but not in relief or relaxation. It was almost as if he’d deflated, resigning himself to something I didn’t understand.
I started to look up to see if I could get a better read on him, but he just gathered me closer, his lips once again skimming the top of my head.
“Because I’m the steady during the worst chapter of your life,” he stated with heartbreaking confidence.
A smile tipped my lips as the words landed somewhere so deep inside me I hadn’t realized how empty I’d truly been.
I had yet to taste his lips.
Or given him my body.
But the ground had begun to shake, and it wouldn’t be long before I started to fall.
“You are,” I said softly. “You absolutely are.”
16
DEVON
She fell asleep somewhere between the famous stray cat on the HOA page and me running out of reasons to keep talking.
Her thumb had been tracing patterns against my chest, and then it slowed, coming to rest over my heart as she melted into me, every thread of tension leaving her body in one long exhale.
I should have gotten up and gone to my room.
Hell, I never should have lain down with her to begin with.
And yet, as her breathing evened out and her weight settled heavy against my side, I didn’t move.
I stared up at the ceiling, the soft glow of her lamp throwing shadows across the room.
What a fucking night.
On the drive home, Chris had alerted Leo to our run-in with the paparazzi. He had all the questions, and I’d done my best to answer them without tipping off Lofton to Sebastian’s appearance.
As Lofton leaned against the counter, watching my every move like she needed me close in order to breathe, my conversation with Leo had turned into a game of charades, feeding him details in military alphabet, while flashing her a carefree grin each time her eyes flicked my way.
I’d known something was wrong the minute she’d excused herself to go to bed. Her smile was all fucking wrong as she’d told me she was good. Her squeeze on my forearm felt stiff and forced, like something you would offer a stranger rather than—well, whatever the hell we were.
Nothing. I told myself. We were absolutely nothing.
Leo had been right. I had blurred the lines with Lofton. And the worst part was, I wasn’t trying to redraw them.
Over the past few weeks, moment by moment, smile by smile, feelings had accumulated into something I hadn’t adequately prepared for. It was like the way water leaked into old foundations—slow and silent until one day it washed away the whole damn building.
And because I was a fucking dumbass, I lay in that bed with her, holding on like I wasn’t about to be swept away with it.
Lofton’s friends had tried to warn me.
Honest to God, I’d believed them. It made too much sense.
But getting the confirmation straight from Lofton’s perfect lips hadn’t left much room for denial.
I didn’t want a trauma bond with Lofton. Not even the kind where I was only her bodyguard, and she was too scared to go out of the house without me. But I especially didn’t want the kind where something happened between us only because I was her steady, and I’d been too selfish to shut it down.
It was best to leave it alone. Put the boundaries back in place. Keep my hands and my colors to myself and let things cool off for a while.
One day the storm would pass. She’d find her footing again, realize I was never who she actually wanted, and move on. And this time, unlike the last, I’d be able to do the same—with a clear conscience and my career still intact.
My phone vibrated against my thigh, and I carefully dug it out of my pocket so as not to wake her.
Leo.
I ended the call and waited, not quite ready to leave her. Her dark hair fanned across my chest. Her hand curled loosely over my heart. The warmth of her soaked through my shirt and I let myself drink it all in for exactly three more seconds.
Three.
Two.
I fucking hated this.
One.
I carefully lifted her hand, holding it long enough for a chill to form in its absence, and then eased it down at her side.
She stirred, a soft moan escaping her lips, and I went completely still, holding my breath until she settled again. Taking my weight off that mattress like I was defusing a bomb, I inched out from under her. The bed let out one last traitorous creak as I rose to my feet, but thankfully Lofton didn’t budge.
And neither did I.
Damn, she was beautiful.
Not in the way she was on a movie screen or any of the glamorized versions of herself she offered the world. She was just Lofton. My favorite freckles she tried to hide were out in full force, scattered across her nose and cheeks. The small scar on her forehead had nearly healed, existing only as a thin pink line. Soon enough it would fade from her life altogether—just like me. And she would be better for it, on both accounts.