Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 90009 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90009 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
For me, it’s always been her.
Always.
So why the fuck haven’t I manned up and done something about it?
We’ve been dancing around this for years, orbiting each other, coming close but never colliding.
Maybe it’s time.
Maybe I need to stop playing it safe and finally tell her how I feel.
No more holding back or waiting for just the right moment.
Decision made, I throw off the covers before scrubbing a hand over my face and then stalking out of my room.
Her door is cracked open.
Just as I’m about to knock, a sound that’s barely audible catches my attention. It doesn’t register at first, but then it happens again, and my entire body locks up.
Did she just…
My heart slams against my ribs as every muscle coils tight.
No way.
I must have imagined it.
My brain is playing tricks on me.
It’s official, I’m losing it.
But then it repeats, and my pulse skyrockets. Heat floods my system, molten and raw, as a dark, possessive surge overtakes me.
Holy fuck.
Is she doing what I think she’s doing?
That’s all it takes for a war to break out in my head.
If I had an ounce of decency, I’d turn around, crawl back into bed, and pretend I have no idea what’s happening behind Lilah’s door.
Instead, I push it open just enough to see if I’m right.
The room is bathed in shadows. The silvery glow from the full moon spills through the blinds, illuminating just enough for the image of her to get singed into my brain.
The sheets are tangled around her legs and one hand grips the pillow as the other disappears beneath the fabric of her panties.
My gut twists as heat coils low in my belly.
She’s stunning.
And so completely lost in what she’s doing that she doesn’t realize she’s no longer alone.
I can’t tear my eyes away from the picture she makes.
I brace a hand against the doorframe and try to get control of myself.
What I’d like to know is who she’s thinking about.
It better not be Devon.
Or is there some other asshole who’s not even on my radar?
My hand fists at my side at the possibility.
But then I hear my name whispered from her lips. The sound is like a wrecking ball to my fragile restraint, and I still as the world stops spinning.
Every sharp inhale she takes, every small movement, every sigh, is all for me.
Everything inside me splinters apart at that knowledge.
I should leave.
I should definitely stop watching this intensely private moment.
But I don’t.
Can’t.
I stand here, gripping the doorframe like it’s the only thing keeping me upright, and watch as she falls to pieces. Her body shudders as her lips part on a muffled cry.
It takes every ounce of control not to eat up the distance between us and crawl into that bed, pull her into my arms, and finally give us what we both want.
Instead, I force myself to retreat, slipping away from her room.
I drag a hand down my face as my pulse thunders. Every muscle is wound tight. My heart is racing and my blood roars in my ears.
God, I want her so damn much.
But it’s more than just want.
More than lust.
It’s love.
The kind that settles into your bones and never lets go.
Most guys might panic at that realization.
At just how far gone they are.
But me?
I’ve known for years.
I’ve been in love with Lilah Monroe since the first time she leaned over her college notebook, brow furrowed, muttering something about the professor.
I think I’ve been hers ever since.
And now?
Now I understand there’s no coming back from this.
No rewinding.
No pretending that what I feel is anything less than everything.
If I can’t have Lilah, I don’t want anyone else.
I slip into bed, the sheets cool against my skin, but there’s no comfort in them. Not without her. Not when my name, whispered on a moan, is still echoing in my head like a fervent prayer.
I stare up at the ceiling, my body tight with desire, hope, and a little bit of fear.
Because she’s always been mine.
I just need to prove it.
And pray she feels the same.
11
LILAH
Someone needs to tell me why the hell I agreed to this.
Oh, that’s right.
It’s because Steele asked, and I’ve never been good at saying no to him. Especially when he’s always been there for me. If I needed the man to move mountains, he’d do it in a heartbeat.
No questions asked.
It’s the only reason I’m standing off to the side on a sleek, upscale photography set, watching him charm an entire room of people. His charisma is effortless. Not something he turns on and off like some pro athletes or celebrities do.
The studio lights highlight every sharp, defined feature of his face from his chiseled jaw, the unfairly perfect cheekbones, to his silvery-gray eyes that have probably sold thousands of jerseys.
And don’t even get me started on the suit.
Charcoal gray, perfectly tailored, hugging broad shoulders and a body built for pure destruction on the ice.