Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 77827 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77827 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Knowing that Baylor is right across the hall is what’s really keeping me awake. I’d give anything to have her lying next to me, but we’re not there yet, and that’s okay, but damn, she’s so fucking close, yet so far away. I keep reminding myself that it’s baby steps.
The sound of her bedroom door opening has my head jerking toward my own. I left it cracked open halfway in case she needed me. I watch as her shadow appears in the doorway.
“Baylor?”
She doesn’t say anything, but she steps inside my room. It seems like hours for her to reach my bed, when it’s mere seconds. She stands there in the dark, and only the shadows cast by the moon through the bedroom window make it possible for me to make out her silhouette.
“Are you okay? Do you need anything?”
She sniffles. “Can I— I just—” Her voice cracks, causing her to halt whatever it was she was going to say.
Immediately, I pull back the covers. “Come here. Lie down with me,” I tell her, my voice soft, hopefully soothing to her. She hesitates. “Just cuddle with me, Baylor. Whatever it is, I promise it’s going to be okay.” Several thunderous heartbeats later, she’s climbing into bed next to me. I pull the cover up over her and tug her into my arms. Her head rests against my chest, and my arms wrap around her as she breaks.
The fall into her feelings is quiet at first. Her body trembles, her breath shaky, and then a sob breaks free from her chest, as if something has finally pushed her over the edge, after holding on for far too long.
Seeing her like this, feeling her body tremble with her tears, her sobs filling the quiet room, wrecks me.
I tighten my arms around her, one hand cradling the back of her head, pressing her closer like I can somehow shield her from everything that’s already happened. Her fingers fist in my shirt, clutching like I’m the only solid thing left in her world. And if I could be that for her, I would. I already am. She just doesn’t know it.
Her tears soak through my T-shirt, hot and relentless, each one carving something sharp through my chest. I’ve seen her laugh until she couldn’t breathe. Seen her roll her eyes, tease, fight, and stand tall like nothing could knock her down.
But this?
This version of her. Witnessing her shatter and hurting, it damn near kills me.
“I’ve got you,” I murmur, my voice low against her hair. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.” I can only assume everything that’s gone down the past couple of weeks is just now catching up to her. I’m sure my confessions didn’t help, and guilt weighs heavily on my chest. I never want to cause her pain. I would give anything to take this from her, to fix what he broke, and I vow that I will. I’ll put her heart back together, piece by piece, and then maybe if I’m lucky, she’ll hand it back to me.
I would do anything… anything to take this pain from her, to rip it out of her chest and carry it myself if it meant she’d never feel it again. I’d go back and undo every word that asshole said to her, every promise he broke, every detail of the future he painted just to tear it down.
I’d give her all those promises, plan our future, and live by every word if she would only let me.
Her breathing hitches, another sob tears through her, and I press my lips to the top of her head without thinking. It’s instinct. It’s need. It’s everything I’ve been holding back for longer than I want to admit.
“Why wasn’t I enough?” she whispers, the words so broken they barely make it out.
My jaw tightens, dark fury rising in my chest. Not at her. Never at her. But at him. At the damage he left behind, as if she were something disposable.
“Hey,” I say softly, pulling back just enough to look at her. The room is still dark, but the moonlight gives me just enough light to make out her features. My thumb brushes under her eye, catching tears as they fall. “Don’t… Don’t do that to yourself. This isn’t about you not being enough.” I know she doesn’t believe me. Not yet. So, I pull her back in, tucking her against me as if she belongs there, like I know she always has.
“He didn’t deserve you,” I add, quieter now. Truer than anything I’ve ever said. My throat tightens around everything else I don’t say. I want to reassure her that I would never lie to her. I want to make her every promise he never kept and show her what it’s like for a man to choose her. To put her first. The future she thinks she lost is the same one I’ve been dreaming of for years. The one I want with her.