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)
“Seems like a weird thing to lie about.” I cross my arms over my chest, gripping my upper arms, trying to physically hold myself together when all I want is to fall apart. How did we go from getting ready for our first real date to... whatever this is?
He nods. “Let’s sit down and talk?” He’s the picture of cool, calm, and collected.
Meanwhile, I’m on the verge of falling apart. I thought he was about to tell me he loved me. Stupid, stupid Scarlet. I couldn’t even keep my stalker’s attention, so what hope did I ever have of keeping a man like Ellis Wilder’s?
“Sure… okay,” I say, in a daze. When I make no move to follow him, he steps back into the bathroom, guiding me with a hand to the small of my back.
I sit, as if on autopilot, hands clasped in my lap waiting for the inevitable let down. After all, no one’s ever wanted to keep me before.
I wrack my brain, trying to pick up on the signs I missed. But nothing comes to mind.
“If you want me to leave, I will—”
“What?” he rears back like I slapped him. “Why would I want you to leave?”
“I don’t know.” My bottom lip quivers. “I’m so confused right now, Ellis. I don’t understand what’s happening. I thought I did, but—”
“God, I’m fucking this all up, huh?” He drops down next to me, bundling me into his arms. “I do not, in any way, shape or form, want you to leave, Scarlet. But I do want you to listen. Can you do that for me?”
I let out a shuddery exhale and nod.
He releases me, sitting up but, angling himself toward me. “I told you Atlas blew it out of proportion because my dad taught me to make it, and this is partially true. What I didn’t tell you was... it’s sort of an unofficial tradition in my family.”
“French toast is an unofficial family tradition, and you lied about it?” Individually, those are all words I know but strung together they sound nonsensical. Like gibberish. “I-I’m sorry, but I don’t understand.”
“When my dad realized he loved my mom, he cooked her French toast.”
“Okay,” I whisper, confusion churning in my gut like a stormy sea. “That’s... nice.”
“When my grandpa fell in love—same thing. And his dad... you guessed it. French toast. It sounds asinine when I say it out loud, that there’s some emotional significance on a common breakfast food, but for the men in my family, there is.”
“And Atlas got upset, because he mistook it to mean you loved me.” Clarity strikes me like a bolt of lightning—both painful and illuminating. “That makes sense, I guess.”
“Except he was right,” Ellis says, his knee bouncing a mile a minute. “I fucking love you, Scarlet.”
“What?” I croak. Surely, I misheard him. Because there’s no way Ellis Wilder just told me he loved me.
“I love you,” he says simply, grabbing both of my hands and interlacing our fingers.
“Are you... sure?” Maybe he’s confused. Or telling me what he thinks I want to hear.
“Very.” He nods once. “I think I’ve known it for a while, and it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way. I know I was a shit to you.”
“No,” I rush. “I do. I love you, too. So much. I just...” I blink rapidly, trying to stave off the tears threatening to fall. “I’m so confused and maybe a little overwhelmed. I definitely thought you were breaking things off, not confessing your love. My, uh, my body apparently needs a little time to catch up to my brain. My fight or flight is still working overtime here.”
“Say it again,” he commands.
And I’m all too happy to comply. “I love you, Ellis.”
He closes his eyes, something akin to rapture passing over his features. “Hell yes, you do. And you better always stay and fight when it comes to us.” He brings our joined hands to his mouth and kisses each of my knuckles. “Don’t you know, baby girl, there’s nowhere you could go that I wouldn’t find you? You’re it for me—my end game, even if it took me helluva long time to get my head out of my ass to see it. I’m an enlightened man now, and you’re mine, to keep, forever and always.”
“Do you...” I worry my lip between my teeth. “Do you really mean that?”
“With every ounce of my being. Now, go fix your mascara so we can make our reservations. I’m already thinking about all of the ways I want to worship your body and show you my love once we get back home.”
“We could just stay home,” I offer, even as I stand and head for the bathroom. “Why wait?” My stomach chooses that exact moment to growl.
“That’s why. Let me feed you, then I’ll fuck you. As many times as you want, over and over again.”