Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 24043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 120(@200wpm)___ 96(@250wpm)___ 80(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 120(@200wpm)___ 96(@250wpm)___ 80(@300wpm)
We watch another episode, this time in companionable silence. I let my hand rest on the couch between us, close enough that our fingers almost touch. After a while, she shifts, and her hand slides over mine, warm and small and perfect.
I don’t move. I don’t speak. I just watch her, burning every detail into memory.
When the credits roll, she stands and stretches again, yawning. "It’s getting late," she says, a little regretful. "I’m usually in bed by ten."
I nod, not trusting myself to speak.
She walks me to the door, then pauses, looking up at me. "Thank you. For the pizza. For…" she waves a hand, as if to sum up the whole weird night. "For everything."
I want to kiss her. I want to slam her up against the wall and show her exactly what she does to me. But instead, I just gently touch her cheek, like she might break if I tried anything rougher.
She smiles, and it’s the softest, sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.
"Good night, Gabe," she says, voice barely above a whisper.
"Good night, Alice," I reply and lean down to cover her soft lips with mine. Fireworks erupt behind my closed eyelids. She melts against me with a tiny gasp, and I nearly fucking lose it. Her taste, her scent, the little tremor in her body when I deepen the kiss. She’s so soft and sweet, nothing like the brash, sassy girl she pretends to be. I want to devour her whole.
I slide my hand along her jaw, thumb brushing the curve of her cheek, and tip her head back so I can kiss her deeper. Her mouth parts for me, and holy hell, she lets out a tiny moan that might short-circuit my brain. I grip the doorframe behind her to keep from pinning her to the wall and taking what I want. It’s the hardest fucking thing I’ve ever done.
She clings to my shirt, little hands fisted in the cotton, and I feel her heart pounding through every inch of her. It takes every ounce of control I possess to pull back and lay my forehead against hers. “See you soon, coffee girl.”
“Bye.” She smiles as I walk back to the elevator, heart pounding. I have no idea what comes next. All I know is, I’m all in.
And I’m never letting her go.
CHAPTER SEVEN
ALICE
I wake up the next morning with the world’s most ridiculous smile on my face. This is not normal for me. Mornings just aren’t my thing. I still feel the ghost of his lips on mine.
I roll over and check my phone, hoping to find a message from him, but my lock screen is blank. No new notifications. Darn. The spark of disappointment running through me tells me my heart is already getting involved here.
I stumble into the shower, letting the hot water do its job. Then I dress in a pair of black leggings and a slouchy pink cardigan that matches my favorite lipstick. Hair up, but a little messy. My signature Saturday morning chores outfit.
I’m debating whether to make a cup of plain old coffee or head down to the lobby to get a Caramel Macchiato from Gobble Me Up when there’s a knock at my front door.
I peer through the peephole, and my heart pounds away in my chest as I lay eyes on Gabe. Taking a deep breath, I open the door. “Good morning,” I say while my heart jackhammers away at a solid 170 bpm.
“Good morning, coffee girl.” He holds out a cardboard drink tray and a brown paper bag. “I thought your favorite beverage from Gobble Me Up would be a good way to start the day.”
My eyes eat him up. He’s wearing dark jeans and a gray Henley that fits like a glove over every sculpted inch of his body, and his hair is still damp. Damn, he looks so freaking amazing. “How do you know what my favorite drink is?”
“A little birdy told me.” He grins, but it’s not the predatory CEO smile I’m used to. It’s softer, almost sheepish. “You said I had to work for it.”
“Great opening shot,” I tell him as he follows me into the room.
His eyes scan me from top to bottom, and I feel the pink rising in my cheeks. “You look incredible,” he says, handing me the drink tray. “Caramel Macchiato with no whip and an extra shot.”
I take the tray, trying not to swoon. “Your little birdy really knows their stuff.”
He shrugs, and his lips twitch as he lifts the bag. “Also, there are two chocolate cream donuts, a bacon cheddar kolache, and a lemon scone.”
I try to process all of this, but my brain short-circuits. I can’t believe he went to all this trouble to find out what I like. “Thank you,” I say, “for the early morning treats.”