Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 52887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 264(@200wpm)___ 212(@250wpm)___ 176(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 264(@200wpm)___ 212(@250wpm)___ 176(@300wpm)
“Why did you hurt yourself, Zolotse?” He’s staring down at the small red mark on my arm, his brows furrowing together. He looks both unhappy and concerned at the same time.
“I was just making sure this was real. That you were real, and I wasn’t dreaming or something.” I tell him the truth as I step out of the car. His fingers skim over the red spot so gently. I’m not even sure how he manages to be so gentle with how ginormous his hands are.
“I don’t care for this. We are very real.” I love how he says "we" with such firmness.
“No more pinching.” I go to take his hand, but he stops me.
“It’s busy.” He instead wraps his arm around my shoulder and tucks me snugly into his side. Killian’s eyes are taking everything in. You’d think he’s memorizing every single detail and registering what is safe and what isn’t. “You’re tiny.” I might be on the short side, but I’m not tiny. Although compared to him, I suppose everyone is.
“But you can see over everyone, so I think you’ll be able to spot me, sweetheart.”
Killian tilts his head to peer down at me. “You’ll stay close.”
“It’s kinda where I enjoy being.” I pat his chest. I go to wrap my arm around his back, my hand hitting a hard object that’s not noticeable with the jacket he tossed on, covering his tattoos. "Killian?” Why does he need the prop gun? "Do I need my lightsaber?" I joke.
"You've got me." Okay, then. I'm not going to push on questioning him wanting to have it. I'm over here in crown jewels and a dress that most might call too puffy. This is a judgment-free zone.
“You’re a keeper.” I tilt my head up, silently asking for a kiss. He indulges me, leaning down and giving me a quick peck.
“There’s no getting rid of me, Zolotse.” I laugh, but Killian keeps a straight face. Who the heck would want to get rid of him? You’d have to be out of your mind.
“Promise?”
“Vow it.” He sounds dead serious.
“I like the sound of that.” I press myself more into him. He’s lucky I don’t climb him like a tree, but the night is young.
The smell of sugar and fried corndogs fills the air as we draw closer. I pull out my phone and snap a few pictures, wanting to remember every second of this.
Killian gets us a ton of these ticket things, and we're off. I want to laugh at each ride we go to. He eyes them like a ride inspector before he approves for us to get on.
"We have to kiss at the top,” I tell him when we get on the Ferris wheel.
"We can kiss right here."
"Fine." I playfully roll my eyes. "You can kiss me." That man doesn't need to be told, right? When people say that you can feel kisses down to your toes, they weren't lying. The way Killian kisses me, I feel it everywhere.
"I kissed you all the way to the top," he says smugly.
"It's pretty up here."
The carnival sits beside a river in a giant field. On the other side is the city. It’s a clear night so you can see the lights. You have a perfect view from up here.
"It is."
"You're a dork." I elbow him because he's only checking me out.
"Is that my new pet name?" He wiggles his brows, being playful back with me. I'm starting to see that Killian might have been more rigid than I realized, and he's starting to relax. I’ve gotten him to crack a few jokes, and he'll laugh at mine even if they're corny.
"I'm sticking to sweetheart." Killian reaches over and checks the bar thing as the Ferris wheel starts to move a spot. "If you're like this with me, how will you be when you have kids?" I laugh.
Killian glances away. Crappers. Wrong thing to say?
"Sorry, I'll change the subject." Double crap. I think you're supposed to just change it. Not to say that you're going to do so. Kids might not be a dream of his. He did tell me he travels a lot and doesn’t have a permanent home. Add on his own childhood in the foster system, and I can see why the thought of having a family of his own would be undesirable.
"Do you want kids?" he asks me. Could my answer be a deal-breaker? I might as well be honest.
"I mean, I haven’t thought about it real hard, but I suppose I figured when I met my person that it would happen." He gives me one of his grunted responses. "You don't want them?"
"The idea has never entered my mind before."
"Really? Not even a little?" He shakes his head no. "Boys and girls really must think differently." I laugh. I mean, I wasn't planning it out, but I figured in time it was a foregone conclusion.