Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 90919 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90919 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
“Feels like I’m cuddlin’ with a pile of blankets,” he muttered, searching through the blankets to find skin. When his hand found my hip, he slid it to my back and pulled me against his chest.
“You’re so warm,” I mumbled, laying my cheek against him.
His heartbeat was strong and steady.
“Sleep, baby,” he said, kissing my head.
“I can’t.”
“Yeah, you can,” he soothed, sliding his hand up my spine. “Try. I’ll keep the bad shit away.”
Even though he was being really sweet, I kind of wanted to prove him wrong.
I fell asleep within minutes.
When I woke up, the room was bright, and Cian was no longer in bed. I found him in the kitchen with Lou and Frankie, his head inside the fridge.
“Good afternoon, sleepyhead,” Lou called out.
Cian quickly pulled out of the fridge, smacking his head in the process.
“Feel better?” he asked.
“Less tired, more sore,” I replied.
“Damn.” He came over to kiss me and ran a finger down the side of my face. “I’m not buyin’ the property,” he announced nonchalantly.
“You’re what?”
“I’m not buyin’ the property. You’re the first to know. See how I did that?”
“I can confirm that he hasn’t mentioned this to us,” Frankie said, her mouth full of cereal. “Wait, when were you going to buy Ashley’s property?”
“Not important,” I told her. I looked back to Cian. “Why the hell not?”
“Don’t want it,” he replied.
“Yes, you do.”
His eyes grew serious. “I really don’t.”
“Oh.”
“Problem is,” he said, helping me to a kitchen chair like I was eighty years old. “I told Titus and Noel that I was goin’ to be movin’ out soon.”
“I know where this is going,” Frankie muttered.
“I don’t,” Lou countered.
“So, I was thinkin’ me and you could move in together,” he said, ignoring my friends. “Yeah?”
“Baby,” I said slowly, the look on his face giving me all kinds of butterflies. “I own this house.”
He nodded, and after a moment, I giggled.
“Oh, you want to move in here,” I said, like it was just dawning on me.
“She’s quick,” he said to Frankie.
“Sharp as a tack,” she replied.
“You down?” Cian asked as he set a cup of coffee in front of me.
“You already pretty much live here,” Frankie said dryly.
“Need help packing up your stuff?” I asked Cian quietly as he leaned in for a kiss.
“No.” He hesitated a few inches away. “But if you wanna come lay on my bed in those pink mesh underwear while I pack, it would make my fuckin’ year.”
I grinned.
We spent the rest of the day lying around the house. I was sore, and memories popped up at the strangest times—distracting me from whatever movie we were watching or conversation we were having—but it was a good day in spite of that. The fourth time that Cian had to call my name because I wasn’t paying attention, I made a mental note to check in with my old therapist. My parents had always taught us that therapy wasn’t anything to be ashamed of. It was just another tool in our toolbox, sometimes we needed it and sometimes we didn’t.
Bas showed up with some clothes for Cian and camped out on the couch with Lou. My parents stopped by for a while. My brothers did, too. Otto and Esther brought us dinner. Mick and Emilia brought my favorite snacks, and Titus came over to pass out hugs from Noel and pictures the girls had drawn. Nova brought Rumi, my car, and a huge bottle of vodka to put in the cupboard until I felt like getting drunk and swapping stories. She held me for a long time as she said it. None of my sisters-in-law had come through life unscathed, but Nova’s history was the roughest, though you’d never know it.
We stayed up late into the night talking and telling funny stories and hanging out. It felt normal and clean. If it wasn’t for the soreness and the occasional bad memory, the whole thing would’ve felt completely normal. The five of us and Titus—before Noel had come back into his life—used to spend a ton of time together doing nothing. We’d even had bunk beds in Titus’s spare room for the nights we decided to crash there.
It was two in the morning when we finally made it to bed. Bas had fallen asleep on the floor, Frankie was snoring in the chair, and Lou had abandoned us an hour before to read in her room.
“How you feelin’, love?” Cian asked as he closed us in.
“Optimistic,” I said tiredly, sitting down on the bed. “I thought today would be worse, but it was okay.”
“You were actin’ a little spacey.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“It’ll get better.”
“I’m going to talk to someone.”
“Like a shrink?”
“Therapist,” I corrected.
“All right,” he replied slowly.
“It helps being able to talk to someone,” I said, smiling at the suspicion in his voice. “You should try it.”