Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 76953 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76953 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
“Do you want to come in for a coffee before you have to walk all the way back to the clubhouse?” she asked as she pushed the door open and flicked on the light.
Absolutely not.
“Sure.”
Fuck.
What was wrong with me?
The last thing I needed was to be in a small, enclosed, private place with the woman I hadn’t been able to get out of my mind since the damn shooting.
But then I stepped past the threshold and closed the door behind me.
There was no going back.
“It’s not usually such a mess,” Gracie said, ducking down to grab a sweater off the floor, then a scattered blanket, a random ring. “Layna has been crashing with me and she tends to… leave a trail.”
“That a nice way to say she’s a slob?” I asked as she kicked two sets of shoes over toward the shoe cabinet behind the door.
“I wouldn’t say a slob. She’s not dirty or anything. I think she’s just used to suitcases scattered around hotel rooms. So she kind of treats all spaces like cramped hotel rooms with nowhere to properly store anything.”
“You ever say anything mean about anyone?” I asked.
“She’s my cousin. And one of my best friends.”
“Even best friends have annoying habits,” I said with a shrug as she gathered up three drink cups off the coffee table.
“I don’t mind the mess,” she said, walking over toward the kitchen where the ass I’d been watching walk away from me disappeared behind the island that cut the kitchen off from the rest of the common space.
It was a small apartment, but something about the way Gracie designed it made it feel intentionally small. Like if it were any bigger, it wouldn’t have the same intimate, cozy vibe she had going.
Like the woman herself—and, it seemed, most of her wardrobe—the space had a distinctly feminine vibe about it. Even though there weren’t any pink or purple touches that made it seem that way.
The apartment had a more neutral scheme to it more than anything else. I figured she was probably working with rules about neutral-colored walls and just worked from there.
The creamy-colored paint went with the slightly oversized couch, the kind with deep cushions that wouldn’t make me feel like my knees were up by my eyes if I sat there.
All the wood was in a blonde shade with brushed brass pulls on the doors and drawers.
There were pillows and blankets on the couch and chair, a lush rug you could sink your toes into, and more lamps than seemed necessary.
Catching me looking at them, Gracie shot me a sweet smile.
“I hate the big light.”
“The what now?” I asked.
“The big light,” she said, moving to the edge of the island and nodding up toward the ceiling above my head.
And there it was.
The “big” light.
Which was just a typical oversized boob light.
“I never put the big lights on,” she added. “So I have lamps everywhere. The light is more warm and golden. It’s much cozier. Billie has a theory that all the harsh blue-white lights from the LEDs we all use these days are why everyone feels so zapped and headachy. Which might be true. But I just prefer this.” She said that as she walked over toward a light sitting on a small cabinet near the hallway opening and flicked it on.
“I can see it,” I agreed as a warm, yellowish light filled the room.
I didn’t have any lamps in my room. I exclusively used the ‘big light’ when I needed it. Never gave it a second thought before. Though I had a feeling each time I flipped it on now, Gracie’s voice would be in my head.
Then, sure to follow behind that, the memory of her would be in my mind. Standing there in that stupidly sexy floral sundress with the light kissing her skin, making it even more golden than usual.
My fucking fingers itched to reach out and touch the soft edges of her hair, to trace the strands down over her neck, shoulder, and chest.
I cleared my throat.
“Nice place,” I said, desperate to talk about something, anything that might distract me from my thoughts and the way my cock decided to immediately react to them.
“Thanks. There are a lot of rules about not painting or putting holes in the walls. But I think I finally got it how I like it. How do you like your coffee?” she asked as she turned back into the kitchen.
I needed to keep my feet planted two feet inside the door. I needed to keep as much space between the two of us as possible.
But I followed her like a fucking lost puppy until I was blocking the exit on the side of the island that wasn’t attached to the other counter.
Gracie reached up high into the cabinet, going up on her tiptoes that made her calves do all sorts of sexy things that distracted me for a long moment until she did a little jump in the air.