Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 68143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 341(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
I liked the way his mind worked.
Probably more than I should.
“You have this all planned out, don’t you?” I asked as he wrapped me in a tight hug.
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, and groaned when he popped my spine with only the power of his arms.
“That felt good,” I murmured as I found the perfect spot for my head between his chin and his shoulder.
“I know,” he muttered sleepily. “It felt good that I got that kind of pop out of you, too. The satisfaction is real.”
I snickered. “What’s your obsession with popping your joints, anyway?”
“Habit, maybe,” he admitted as he nuzzled my hair.
I ran my nose along the bare skin of his chest. “A nervous habit. Why are you nervous right now, Gun?”
And why was I so nervous?
Then again, I was lying to myself if I didn’t admit why I was nervous. I knew damn well and good why I was nervous.
Because I wanted things with Gunner that a woman who was so recently divorced shouldn’t want. Not to mention, I was his roommate. If this went bad, I’d have to scramble to find something suitable, or I’d have to put on my hat of shame and move back into my parents’ house.
I shouldn’t want him to be wrapping his arms around me in my bedroom in his house.
I shouldn’t want him to leave his kid with me so he went to work, and I could pretend that she was mine, and we could live happily ever after together.
I shouldn’t be happy that he showed up at my track workout today and made it a whole lot less miserable just by his presence alone.
Suffering with someone always was more fun…
Yet, here I was, wanting all of those things with this man.
I wanted to wake up in his arms.
I wanted to hang out all day with his kid tomorrow.
I wanted to text him to see how he was doing.
I wanted everything when it came to Gunner, and to be quite honest, always had.
Now that I was pretty enough…maybe, just maybe, I could have him.
Admitting that to myself felt like a lead weight had settled inside my chest.
Because, deep down, I was still that ugly girl who knew she’d never be able to pull a man like Gunner.
A man like…
“Hey,” Gunner said, turning us so that his forehead was pressed against mine. “Are you even listening to me?”
Was he talking?
“Um, I might’ve missed it,” I admitted.
Please don’t ask why I missed it. Please, please, please.
“Where’s your mind at?” he asked.
Of course he’d ask.
He was always very much aware of my state of mind.
Even when we were young kids, he knew when I was having a hard day.
But instead of hiding what I was thinking about, I went ahead and told him.
He might as well be aware of where I was at.
“I was thinking that I wanted to be yours,” I admitted. “I was thinking how awesome it would be to be on the back of your bike. To have you run every marathon I ever wanted to run with me for the rest of my life. I was thinking about how nice and caring and kind you are. I was also thinking about how I was finally attractive enough to be seen on your arm and the world not wonder what the hell was wrong with you for choosing me when you could have anyone.”
He drew in a deep breath. “If you would have been listening earlier, you would’ve heard why I was nervous.”
I stayed silent.
“Are you listening yet?”
I swallowed hard and nodded.
“Are you sure?” he asked. “I need to hear the words, Sutton. I need you to hear what I have to say to you.”
I closed my eyes.
Even though I couldn’t see his eyes, I felt the intensity of his gaze on me, even through the darkness.
“Yes,” I croaked. “I’m listening.”
“Then I want you to hear me bare my soul again,” he said. “I want you to listen to me when I tell you why I’m nervous.”
I swallowed audibly before saying, “I’m listening.”
“I’m nervous because I shouldn’t want this,” he rasped, his nose running along the apple of my cheek. “I should give you the space that you need. I shouldn’t be worming my way into your life because you literally just had the worst thing in the world happen to you. The man that was supposed to be your ride or die proved that he wouldn’t ride or die for you. He hurt you. Badly. Both physically and mentally. And here I am, knowing that you’re not in the right headspace, realizing that I finally have you exactly where I want you, and moving in when I know that you need time to heal. But I don’t want to give you time to heal. I let you go in high school because I had too much on my plate. I should’ve made a move, and didn’t. I thought my baggage was too much, and didn’t want to ruin your life or your future by being saddled to a high school almost dropout with a kid. Now, here I am, in almost the same predicament, with a three-year-old and I’m forcing you to move in with me. I have you taking care of her when I shouldn’t. You literally almost had to lie in court and say that we were getting married so that I could have an easier time fighting for my kid. And I let you. I fuckin’ let you, because I’m tired of doing the right thing when it comes to you.”