Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 132464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
I nod emphatically. “Yeah, you were.”
“I know—I just said that,” he says. “Okay, that’s six points for me. It’s your turn.”
I assess the seven tiles on my rack and lay down three: A-S-S. “I don’t have ‘H-O-L-E,’” I say, smirking. “How many points does that get me?”
Josh is clearly stifling a smile.
“Come on,” I say. “How many points?”
Josh looks at the directions again. “Three. But I think you should be awarded triple points for being one hundred percent right.”
“Agreed. Okay, your turn,” I say, jutting my chin at him. “Play Scrabble, Josh.”
“I think I’m supposed to pick three more tiles to replace the ones I already played,” he says. He picks up the directions sheet again. “Yeah. It says here we both pick tiles to replace the ones we’ve played.”
We each pick three additional tiles and, after brief consideration, Josh lays his new word onto the board: W-O-O.
“Woo?” I ask. “Like ‘woo-hoo!’?”
“No. Like, ‘woo,’” he says. “Like ‘I’m gonna woo you, Miss Katherine’—like, you know, old timey wooing.” He flashes a charming smile. “As in, ‘You better brace yourself, Miss Katherine, because I’m gonna woo the fucking shit out of you.’”
“Oh my goodness, sir. You’re gonna woo me shitless?”
“Yes, I am, m’lady.”
“Well, sir, I’m not completely sure I’m ready to be wooed shitless, to be perfectly honest. What would people say?”
“You don’t get to decide. You’re gettin’ wooed shitless whether you like it or not.”
My pulse is pounding in my ears.
“Okay. Quit stalling,” Josh says. He motions to the game board again. “It’s your turn. Play Scrabble, Kat.”
I bite my lip and look at my tiles, considering my move. But none of the letters on my rack are calling to me, so I begin rearranging the tiles Josh used to spell W-O-O.
“No, babe, you’re supposed to use new tiles from your—” Josh begins, but he abruptly stops talking when he sees the word I’ve spelled with his tiles.
“Ow,” I say softly, reading the new word I’ve created.
Josh’s face twists with what appears to be sincere remorse.
“You really hurt my feelings, Josh,” I say. “I felt totally rejected—like I’m in this relationship all by myself.”
Josh opens his mouth to speak but apparently thinks the better of it. He begins furiously peeking at the down-facing tiles on the table, apparently looking for something specific, and when he’s found his desired tiles, he lays a word onto the game board: S-O-R-R-A.
“Sorra?” I ask.
Josh shrugs. “I couldn’t find a ‘Y.’”
I bite my lower lip, simultaneously amused and touched.
“I’m sorry, Kat,” Josh says softly. “I didn’t tell you about Seattle because there’s something wrong with me—not because there’s something wrong with you. You’re perfect in every way. I just... ” He looks up at the ceiling, apparently searching for the right words. “I just fucked up, that’s all,” he finally says matter-of-factly. “Because I’m fucked up—more than you know.” He pauses. “More than I even realized.”
I bite my lip and nod.
“And, in the interest of full disclosure, this probably won’t be the last time I fuck up, either. I’m not sure exactly how or when I’ll do it again, but I most certainly will. And when I do, please, just try to be patient with me. I’m trying my damnedest to ‘overcome’ every single day—I swear I am—and, mostly, I succeed. But sometimes, I can’t seem to get out of my own way.”
I swallow hard, stuffing down the fierce emotion rising up inside me.
Josh exhales. “I’m really, really sorry, Kat,” he says, his blue eyes begging for forgiveness.
Oh, his eyes. I could get lost in those beautiful blue eyes forever. I begin hurriedly peeking at the undersides of tiles spread out on the table, looking for specific letters. Finally, when I’ve gathered almost everything needed, I lay my tiles down on the table: I-F-O-R-G-V-U.
Josh cocks his head to the side, looking at my tiles.
“I forgive you, Josh,” I say. “But I’m too impatient to keep looking for the rest of the tiles.”
Josh lets out a long, relieved exhale, and before I can say another word, he swipes the game board off the table, scattering tiles all over the floor, pulls me out of my chair, and proceeds to maul me.
“I’m so sorry,” he breathes between voracious kisses.
“I forgive you,” I say, my body exploding with desire.
“I’m not Garrett Bennetting you.”
“I know. I’m sorry I said that.”
“Never,” he murmurs.
In a frenzy of heat, he pulls off my clothes and guides me onto the table on my back and begins covering my body with greedy kisses. He’s everywhere, all at once. His lips are on my neck, and then my breast; my nipple’s in his hungry mouth; his fingers are brushing lightly against my thigh and then across my hipbone. I arch my back with pleasure at the urgency of his touch, his mouth, his lips.
“I’ve been wrecked without you,” he whispers.