Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 63842 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63842 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
Somewhere between the highway on-ramp and the turn toward Haven, my mind and body found a perfect peace. Wind roared in my ears and tugged at my hair. I rested my face against Rip’s back for several seconds, just breathing. Existing. Embracing the peace in the middle of chaos. Rip covered my hand where it rested on his flat, muscled abdomen, patting my hand a couple of times before taking the handlebars once again.
I tightened my arms around Rip’s torso and lifted my face into the wind coming over his shoulder. My pulse quickened and my smile grew wider. I felt… free.
Free to live. Free to find happiness. The whole concept scared me. I didn’t want to need something from another person. Not for anything major in life, like a home or a vehicle. But most especially for anything intimate or, God forbid, to actually fall for someone.
My own desires had cost me the last time I’d given in. But the want… that desire lingered whether I wanted it there or not. No matter what, I couldn’t make those feelings not be there by pretending otherwise.
We turned through Haven’s gate and the ride ended before I was ready to let go. Rip parked and cut the engine, and the silence rushed in. I climbed off and Rip followed. He walked beside me to the entrance and through the building to my room, unhurried and patient. I imagined he wanted to stay in my presence as much as I wanted him with me, but that was a childish fantasy. At the door, he stopped.
“You good?” he asked.
I nodded. “Yes.”
He held my eyes for a beat, checking, and seemed satisfied with what he found. Once again, he reached out carefully to brush a lock of hair off my forehead. His thumb grazed my cheek in a strangely tender gesture. “You have my number. You need anything, you call. You want to chat mindlessly without having to actually talk, you text me. You get scared, have a nightmare, call me. Got it?”
I blinked up at him, trying to concentrate on his expression. “Do you really mean that? I mean, there’s always someone close. I know who to call.”
“You call me, Jade. Me.” Rip didn’t move or raise his voice, but he issued the command with every expectation I’d obey him.
“Why?”
“Because you trust me. And I need to help you however you need it.” When I opened my mouth to question him further, he placed a finger on my lips. “Don’t ask me to explain further, because I can’t. Just promise me, OK?”
“OK,” I whispered.
“Good night, Jade.”
“Good night.”
He turned and walked back down the hall, out of sight. When he got outside, I heard his bike start, then saw the headlight sweep across the lot as he pulled around toward the gate. The sound traveled down the lane to the main Kiss of Death clubhouse and thinned out as he went deeper into their compound.
I stood in the silence he left behind and put my hand flat against my sternum and felt my heartbeat, steady but too fast.
My body remembered how to want. It had remembered tonight, somewhere between the bar and Haven, without asking my permission first. My mind was nowhere near ready for the feelings inside my body. My mind had an extensive list of reasons why any version of wanting anything from Rip was a terrible idea, and none of those reasons were wrong. But my heart had other plans. As I stood in my small apartment at Haven in the dark, I realized I wanted to see what my heart had in mind.
Chapter Eight
Jade
I woke with a gasp and a fading scream in my throat. Eric’s voice still rang in my ears. Not a memory of what he’d actually said, but the tone of it. Then the beating had started.
I sat upright, gasping for breath, my heart still pounding until it slowed enough to hear the silence around me and not the whooshing of my pulse. My shirt clung to my back, the sheets damp from sweat. The clock on my phone read 4:42 a.m. The darkness felt heavy and oppressive.
I didn’t lie back down, and I had no intention of going back to sleep. I changed my shirt and pulled on some yoga pants and left the room. I needed coffee to face this day, and lots of it.
The corridor stretched quiet and mostly dark, with only the low glow from security lights running along the baseboards to guide my way. My reflection caught in the glass panel by the stairwell door, but I averted my gaze and kept moving.
The kitchen was at the far end of the building. The smell of coffee reached me before I made it to the kitchen itself, and I stopped in the doorway.
Rip sat at the far end of the kitchen island with a mug in front of him and his phone face-down on the counter. The coffeemaker on the back counter was mid-cycle, hissing quietly. He looked up when I appeared in the doorway and he didn’t look surprised.