Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 128417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 514(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 514(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
“I think the feeling’s mutual.”
Josh nuzzles my nose again. “Don’t tell Sarah, but Jonas is gonna pop the question.”
I’m floored. “What?”
Josh grins broadly. “He’s been sending me photos of rings this whole past week. Hang on.” He rearranges me on his lap so he can grab his phone from his pocket. “See?”
I look at his screen—and sure enough, Jonas has texted Josh countless images of diamond rings, all of them bigger than my head.
“Holy Hope Diamond, Batman,” I say.
Josh laughs. “Which one do you think Sarah would like the best? Jonas won’t leave me alone about it.”
I scroll through the images, shaking my head. “Hell, if I know. They’re all freaking spectacular—oh, wait. No. This one. Wow.” I point to a princess-cut dazzler that, for whatever reason, screams “Sarah” to me. “She’s gonna totally freak out.”
“Bless you.” Josh grabs his phone from me and shoots off a quick text to Jonas. “You just saved me from hours of torture, Kat. Thank you.”
“When’s he gonna ask her?”
“In two weeks—he’s taking her on a surprise trip to Greece right after her final exams.”
I gasp. “He’s gonna ask her in Greece? Oh my God.” I clutch my heart. “Oh my shit, Sarah’s gonna crap her pants. Greece?”
“You ever been there?”
“No, remember? I’ve only been out of the country to Mexico and on a cruise to the Caribbean. I told you about the cruise and you said the only way to travel by sea is by private yacht.”
Josh laughs. “I said that? Oh my God, I’m such a douche sometimes.”
I laugh.
He nuzzles my nose. “So get this, babe. Jonas is planning to make poor Sarah hike to the top of Mount Olympus—because, he says, she’s ‘the goddess and the muse’”—he chuckles happily—“and then he’s gonna make her jump off the mountain and paraglide down to the beach—and that’s where he’s gonna ask her.” He laughs heartily. “So fucking Jonas.”
“But Sarah’s deathly afraid of heights.”
He touches my hair. “Well, sucks to be her, then. He wants to create some kind of metaphor.”
My brain tells me I should smile and laugh, but my eyes unexpectedly fill with tears instead. Oh my God, I’m a hot mess. I cover my face with my hands. What the hell is wrong with me lately?
“Kat? What’s wrong?” He looks genuinely concerned. “Why are you crying?”
I shake my head and laugh at myself through my tears. “I’m just so happy for Sarah,” I say, but even as I say it, I’m not sure if this completely explains my sudden (bizarre) tears (though, of course, I am insanely happy for Sarah). “I dunno, maybe I’m just so freakin’ relieved Sarah’s okay—I was so worried about her when she was attacked.” Another true statement—but, again, I’m not sure this is the source of my tears. “Or maybe I’m just sloppy-drunk. That was a really strong drink, Josh.” I half-smile.
Or maybe finding out Jonas is gonna propose to Sarah made my heart pang for myself, if I’m being brutally honest. Maybe my heart clanged so forcefully inside my chest cavity when Josh said those words, the sensation literally brought tears to my eyes.
Josh looks at me funny for a long beat.
I feel like I’ve said something wrong. Or, at least something awkward. I didn’t just now say my deepest thoughts out loud, did I?
After a moment, Josh grabs my face and kisses me passionately. Whoa. This is quite a kiss.
“You’re a good friend,” Josh whispers into my lips, his passion obviously surging all of a sudden. “I like that about you.”
“Josh,” I breathe. His kiss has ignited me.
He rises off the couch, taking my fluttering, swooning, aroused body with him—and I throw my arms around his neck.
“Okay, Party Girl with a Hyphen,” Josh says, his eyes blazing. “Time to finish the tour of my house. Next stop: my bedroom.”
26
KAT
“Wow. Katherine Ulla Morgan’s finally gonna be in my bed,” Josh says gleefully. “Glory be.”
I giggle, peel off my clothes, and crawl into Josh’s luxurious bed, my skin on fire. “Hurry up, Joshua William Faraday. Don’t keep Katherine Ulla Morgan waiting.”
“I’ll be right there. Just getting some music cued up.” He glances at me from across the room, his blue eyes smoldering. “Another one from James Bay. I can’t get enough of this album.”
As the song starts playing, Josh joins me in bed, his erection straining as he crawls over me—and in a flash, his warm skin is covering mine.
“Hey, gorgeous,” he says softly, his muscles bulging as he rests his forearms on either side of my head. “Welcome to my bed.”
“Thank you. It’s a pleasure to be here.”
The song is swirling around us, filling the room with words that seem to have been written especially for us—especially for this moment. Did Josh select this song as some sort of coded message to me—or is it just coincidental that James Bay is singing to us to “Let It Go” and reveal our truest selves to each other?