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)
What the hell was that?
I’ve known Steele Sanderson for a decade. He’s been my constant, the one person I’ve always trusted.
Not once has he ever made me feel like this.
Until now.
I press my lips together, close my eyes, and try to regain my balance.
But it’s no use.
Because deep down, I already know.
This isn’t just a moment.
It’s a shift.
A spark that’s already caught fire.
I don’t think I’m prepared for what that means.
But ready or not…
I feel it.
12
STEELE
The heavy loft door swings shut behind us with a thud, and the sound echoes through the stairwell as we make our way down to the parking structure. The photography studio is in one of those renovated industrial buildings with exposed brick, high ceilings, and oversized windows that let in just enough light to make everything look effortlessly cool.
But none of it compares to the way Lilah looked in that silver dress. I can’t stop thinking about the way her blue eyes locked on mine when I pulled her close for the camera.
For a few stolen moments, she belonged to me.
Even if she didn’t realize it.
“You were good in there,” I say, glancing at her. “Maybe you should come to more of these shoots. Do a little modeling on the side.”
She lets out a dry laugh before shaking her head. “No way. Once was more than enough, thank you very much.”
I smirk. “Really? You didn’t enjoy it? Not even a little?”
She hesitates, pondering the question.
My guess is that she didn’t hate it as much as she wants me to believe. I could see it in the way she relaxed by the end of the shoot and how her body molded itself against mine. Not to mention, the way her eyes softened when she looked at me.
Instead of admitting that, she shrugs. “I mean… it wasn’t terrible.”
I chuckle, enjoying the way she’s trying to play it cool. That doesn’t stop me from noticing the way her fingers drift across the bare skin where the watch had been clasped around her wrist, as if she’s thinking back to the shoot.
Maybe Lilah isn’t ready to acknowledge the way our relationship is changing, but that’s fine. I’ve forced myself to be patient for ten long years. Giving her a little more time won’t kill me.
I hope.
The air is cool and crisp with the early afternoon breeze as we reach the parking structure. Without thinking, I slide my hand into hers, threading our fingers together.
For a second or two, she stiffens before relaxing and letting me hold her.
I don’t say anything about it.
I just do it like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
Like it’s something I’ve been doing for years.
Her hand is delicate against mine, but there’s a strength there too. She doesn’t pull away as we weave through the cars. Even though I don’t want to, I release her to open the passenger door, and watch as she slides inside the vehicle. She moves carefully, adjusting her skirt as it rises up her thighs just enough to make my stomach tighten.
I shut the door before I actually start to drool.
Once I’m inside, I fire up the engine. The low rumble fills the quiet between us as I pull out of the garage and onto the street.
Lilah stares out the window as her fingers brush over her thighs.
“There was nothing to be jealous of,” I say casually.
Her head snaps toward me, brows furrowing. “What?”
I keep my eyes on the road. “You heard me.”
She lets out a sharp laugh. “You think I was jealous in there?”
“Yup.”
“Of what?” she scoffs, clearly trying to brazen this out. “Of that model who was hanging all over you?”
I lift a shoulder. “I don’t know. You tell me.”
With an exhale, she shakes her head. I don’t miss the way her arms fold over her chest.
Totally defensive.
Busted.
She was jealous.
And I fucking love it.
“You’re ridiculous,” she mutters, but there’s no real bite to the words.
“Maybe,” I say, taking the next turn a little faster than necessary, adrenaline buzzing through my veins from earlier. “But I’m not wrong.”
Even though she huffs, looking back out the window, I catch the way the corner of her lips twitch like she’s trying to hide her smile.
“Big game tonight,” I say, breaking the tension with a change in topic.
“Against Dallas?”
“Yup.” I glance at her. “I missed you last time.”
“I know. I’m sorry about that.”
“No need to apologize. I like knowing you’re out there in the crowd,” I admit. “You’re my very own lucky charm.”
Instead of responding, she watches me, as if seeing something she hadn’t noticed before.
When she finally speaks, her voice is quiet. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”
I nod once as the tension within me tightens for an entirely different reason.
After pulling into the garage and killing the engine, we sit for a second, neither of us moving.
She’s so close.