Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 100275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 501(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
My mind spins, my thoughts an aura of unhurried bliss. I’m boneless, euphoric, and so damn satisfied by the time he curses my name and stills inside me.
That. Happened.
It takes a moment for it to feel real. I wait for that brain worm of regret to extinguish every last flame of happiness. Except it doesn’t. I don’t regret it. If I could press rewind and do it again, I would.
“What took you so long?” I quip while he nestles his face into my neck, breath erratic, heavy body limp on mine.
“Fuck you.” His body vibrates with his soft chuckle.
“Fitz?”
“Yeah?”
“I can’t breathe.”
He climbs off me, and I give him a shy grin while wrapping the blanket around my body, plucking my shirt and underwear from the floor, and hurrying toward the bathroom.
“Shit,” I mumble to myself, sitting on the toilet, hunched forward, hands fisting my hair. “I had sex with Fitz. That was . . .” Stupid? Perhaps. But good. So good.
It’s okay, I mouth, flushing the toilet and washing my hands. I give the messy-haired reflection in the mirror a toothy grin. “It was just sex,” I whisper.
My heart laughs—a full-on bent-at-the-waist, gasping-for-its-next-breath sort of laugh.
When I return with the blanket, Fitz is back in his shorts and sitting on the sofa. We share a look. I can’t read his. I’m unsure what mine means, either, so I sit beside him.
An uncomfortable silence settles around us.
“I’m on the pill, in case you were wondering.”
“I’ve had a vasectomy, in case you were wondering.”
My head pivots toward him. “Because you were tired of counting sperm?”
He smirks. “Exactly.”
My lips twist for a few seconds. “But I do have genital herpes.”
“I have crabs,” he says, glancing at me with a serious expression.
I try not to react. If I react, he wins. And it’s been well established that I’m not okay with him winning. Sadly, I can’t hold it in. I snort, covering my mouth and shaking with silent laughter. I feel it in my belly—a deep contentment.
It cracks his stony facade, and he grins, snagging the blanket from my hold. “Go to bed.”
“In the morning, will you pretend this never happened?”
Fitz straightens the wadded blankets. “Of course.” He stretches out on the sofa, forcing me to scoot to the edge.
For a second, I frown, unable to hide my disappointment.
“Night, Fitz.” I stand.
“Is Melissa waking up soon?”
I rest my chin on my shoulder. “No.”
He holds up his blanket. “I’ll have you in her bed by sunrise.”
How did this happen? How did I fall so fast and hard for Calvin Fitzgerald?
I can hide my grin as I step back toward the sofa.
“I think your shirt will make us too hot,” he says with a serious face that lasts two seconds before he breaks out his winning grin.
Losing the shirt first, I crawl up his body, and he covers as much of us as possible with the dinky blanket.
My face hovers over his. “You just like my breasts pressed to your chest.”
“Fuck yeah, I do.”
I rest my cheek high on his chest. “I’m going to listen to your heart until you feel the need to make me think you don’t have one.”
Fitz doesn’t respond with words. He rests one hand on my back and the other on my butt.
My person.
Chapter Seventeen
CALVIN
She is . . .
Unexpected.
I find myself stretching my emotional capacity, giving her more than I think I have to give—which isn’t much.
As the sun rises, I kiss her head. She’s nestled herself between me and the back of the sofa. I’m barely on the edge. Hot and sweaty. Yet I feel something akin to contentment.
It can’t be that. My life is unsettled with chaos, pain, and regret. I’m driven in one direction. Death chases me. I can’t outrun it forever, but that sobering truth doesn’t stop me from trying.
“You need to go to bed,” I murmur next to her ear while resting my hand on her hip, giving it a gentle shake.
Her eyes flutter open. I can’t help but grin. She’s so beautiful. I have a handful of mental pictures that occupy a permanent spot in my memory. This one will join them.
“What time is it?” Her sleepy voice fills the intimate space between us.
“I don’t know. But the sun’s rising.”
“’Mkay.” Jamie maneuvers herself over me, standing and stretching before rubbing her eyes. When her tired gaze lands on me, her lips curl into an airy smile. “I dreamed we did something we weren’t supposed to do.” She pulls her nightshirt over her head and threads her arms through.
“You and your dreams. You’re such a perv.”
Her grin doubles. “Oh, Fitzy, you have no idea.” She pads her way to the bedroom.
I know there’s no way I’ll get back to sleep. So I throw on a T-shirt and my tennis shoes and head out for a long run on the beach, inhaling as much ocean air as possible while the shifting sand makes every step a struggle.