Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 101758 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101758 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
“You didn’t either,” she says, and it makes my chest tight. “I think it’s worse for you.”
No. I can’t miss what I don’t remember having.
“Pretty sure it was a few weeks later that I took a pretty hard knock on the head and got another fucking concussion. But I won’t forget again. Come here.” I pull her to me and hug her close, wrap the blanket around us, and simply sit here in the dark with her, holding her.
Since I left Tucker’s place and ended up driving Ivy home with me, this is all I’ve wanted to do. Hold on to her. I don’t know what it is, I just feel better with her in my arms.
Cally jumps up onto the couch, and I lie down with Ivy tucked against me. The cat burrows against us, making biscuits and purring, and this might be the most comfortable I’ve been in . . . years.
“I could go up to bed,” Ivy whispers against my chest.
“Stay here with me, Red. I’m feeling clingy.”
I kiss the top of her head, and with both girls cuddled up with me, I close my eyes and fall asleep.
The sky is bright with morning sunlight.
And I’m on the couch alone.
I scrub my hands over my face and sit up. Ivy draped the blanket around me when she got up. I wonder how long I’ve been here by myself?
I want to see Ivy, because apparently I’m clingy as fuck now, so I pad over to the kitchen, but she’s not there. I walk upstairs, pleased that my knee doesn’t have any pain to speak of, and peek in the bedroom I gave her to use, but she’s not here either. Not even in the bathroom.
With a frown, I go back downstairs and check out the back door and in the media room, and finally, just when I’m about to find my phone and try to call her, I push into the gym and see her sitting at her desk, the water tumbler I gave her at her elbow.
Fuck, she’s pretty.
Her hair is up in a messy bun on the top of her head, and she’s wearing glasses as she makes notes on her iPad.
I blink and see a flash of a young girl with her lip between her teeth, trying not to cry as a kid taunts her with her bagged lunch, holding it over her head.
And then I blink again and look at Ivy. She’s in my hoodie, her bare legs pulled up under her, and she’s deep in thought, and I fucking love her like this.
I step forward, and her gaze lifts to mine.
“You left me,” I say.
“I couldn’t sleep anymore, and Cally kept batting at my nose.”
She shrugs and shuts down the iPad.
“I’m going to get a workout of my own in before we get started on your session,” she says as she tugs my hoodie over her head and sets it aside, and Jesus Christ on a cracker, she’s trying to kill me.
She’s in the tiniest black booty shorts and a black sports bra, and that’s it. She’s not self-conscious of her curves now because they’re all on display, and I need to start worshipping whatever god created this incredible creature.
“Don’t watch me,” she says with a frown. “I don’t have any other workout clothes. I really need to be able to go home soon.”
“You can’t strip all the way down to that and tell me not to watch you.”
“Yes, I can. Be a gentleman.” She pats my shoulder, and I snag her wrist and lift her palm to my lips.
“You’re fucking devastating,” I growl against her skin, and her eyes heat.
“You’re being nice.”
“I’m never nice.” I lean in so my lips are near her ear. “Your body is what wet dreams are made of, wildcat.”
She snorts and pushes away. “Yeah, okay. Go away so I can work out.”
With that, she turns on her music, another ’90s station that’ll have my ears bleeding in minutes, and just as Gangsta’s Paradise starts to play, this amazing girl hops on the treadmill and starts to walk.
After five minutes, she boosts up the speed to a jog, and I can plainly see her tits move in the mirror.
I’ll say it again. She’s trying to fucking kill me.
“Stop watching me, Xander Hendrix,” she says into the mirror. “You’re going to make me fall.”
“I have way more confidence in your ability than that,” I reply and saunter over to where I keep extra clothes and change into a pair of shorts, then walk over to the lat pulldown machine right behind her and get to work.
“What are you doing?” she asks without missing a step.
“Upper body. I thought you said you only run if something’s chasing you.”
“Something is chasing me. The numbers on the scale. Why don’t you go eat breakfast?”