Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 103431 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 517(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103431 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 517(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
The cackle that escapes me is pitched high enough to shatter glass, but I’m too delighted to care. “Oh, she and my mom would get along great.”
“No. No way.” Ellis levels me with a serious stare. “They can never meet.”
“What?” I scrunch my nose. “Why not?”
“The two of them together would be nothing but trouble, Scarlet, and you know I'm right.”
I grin up at him mischievously. “Trouble's not always a bad thing.”
He snorts. “Their brand of trouble absolutely would be.”
“Maybe.” A small smile tugs at the corners of my mouth as I imagine all of the trouble they’d get into together. Maybe Ellis is right—they should probably never meet.
“There's no maybe about it, Princess.” He gives me a look that says you know I’m right, but my lips are sealed. “Anyway, she had me decorate this room to her exact specifications so that she had somewhere, and I quote, ‘suitable to lay her head when she comes to visit.’”
“Your mom sounds like a firecracker,” I say, taking in the room with fresh eyes. “She has great taste though.”
Ellis offers me a wry smile. “I'll let her know you think so.”
“Does she know I'm staying here?”
He drags a hand through his hair and grimaces. “She doesn't even know about my new job.”
“Ellis, you can't keep stuff like that from your mother.”
He blinks down at me, judgment written clearly across his ruggedly handsome features. “Does your mom know you have a stalker?”
“No, but that's—”
“If you're gonna say different, I'm gonna go ahead and stop you. If anything, it's twenty times more important, because none of my updates affect my personal safety.”
“Technically me staying with you does...”
His face turns to stone, and I all but wither under his hard stare. “I know, truly I do. I plan on telling her as soon as she's back in the country. I don't want to ruin her vacation. She spent years saving for it and planning every little detail. I'd never forgive myself.”
He shakes his head in disbelief, but his eyes soften. “Well, I don't necessarily agree with it, but I get it.”
“What's one more secret between friends?”
His lips lift in a smile. “Is that what we are, Scarlet? Friends?”
“I'm not really sure what to call us,” I say, honestly. “Everything is so different now.”
“You're not wrong.”
I lick my lips and I don't miss the way he tracks the movement, his eyes flaring with heat. “What would you call us then?”
He thinks about it for a minute. “Roommates?”
Something like disappointment washes over me, but I refuse to let him see it. “Sure... roommates.” I force my lips up to a smile that doesn't feel quite right. “Sounds great.”
He sighs. “Something tells me I just fucked up, except I don't know what I did.”
“No, no,” I try to reassure him. “It's fine. You didn't do anything. I'm just being dumb.”
“First of all, even I know when a woman says she’s fine, it’s bullshit. Secondly, you're not being dumb. Your feelings aren't dumb. So cut that shit out and tell me what's wrong? What did I do?”
I rock back on my heels as I try to come up with a reasonable explanation. But Ellis’s perceptive ass sees right through me.
“This isn't gonna work, you staying here, if we can't talk to each other and be honest with each other.”
Fucking hell. I don’t have anywhere else to go... not until my mom’s home. “I'm just... I'm overwhelmed.” I twine my fingers together, fidgeting. “I'm confused. I feel like I don't even know left from right anymore, and—”
Ellis pivots suddenly, positioning himself behind me so that his chest presses into my back.
“What are you...”
He holds up his hands up in front of us with his thumb and index fingers out on each hand. “The one that makes an L is your left, Scarlet. The other one's your right.”
“Oh my God, you're insufferable,” I say through bouts of laughter. “I guess I'm just confused. And we don't have to label anything. Roommates... friends... whatever is fine. I just think—”
“You think it would be nice to know.” He states it so plainly, calmly even. How is he able to be calm when it feels like my insides are melting? I’m literally asking this man to define our relationship when we don’t even have one. He’s not my friend... and I’m pathetic for wishing he was.
I nod, feeling about two inches tall. “Yeah, that.”
“I’ll be honest, Scar. I... I don’t know what this is between us. You drive me fucking nuts but I...” He drags a hand over his scruff lined jaw. “I care about what happens to you. I care about your safety. So, while I don't know if I'm ready to label anything between us, I’m willing to concede and call you my friend.”
It's stupid. Pathetic, really. But my insides light up like the Fourth of July. “Okay then, friend. Wanna tell me why Atlas got so weird about the French toast?”