Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 111742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
His listening that closely makes me feel important, like I’m worth his time and attention. “Which I totally am!” I remind myself as I spritz water over my head and scrunch my curls to freshen them up.
I listened to him too, though. And though I might’ve panicked at his place, I also heard his explosion of emotion before I found out about the stalking. I heard him say that he was trying to give me space to heal and not interfere because he knew I could do it on my own, and that he was proud of how strong and capable I am. Those are words that have never been directed at me before, not by my own talkative mind nor anyone around me. But Cole sees that in me and he’s right.
“I’m a total badass.” One last look in the mirror and I’m ready—cleaned up after work, dressed in jeans and a striped T-shirt that hangs off one shoulder, and mentally prepared to listen.
And excited to see Cole.
Yeah, that part’s probably stupid, but I can’t help it. I missed him after leaving the cabin, and there’s a piece of me, not that far deep down, that’s giddily jumping up and down at the idea of the hot guy coming to see me.
Maybe he can give you more orgasms?
No, that’s not what tonight’s about. Tonight’s a reset, a new beginning in the real world, not the fake one we started at the cabin.
“Come in,” I say as I open the door at exactly six thirty.
“Thanks.” Cole’s wearing the same jeans and T-shirt from this morning, but I can smell a fresh dose of cologne as he passes by. Oh, wait . . . that’s the pizza he’s carrying.
“This is my favorite pizza place!” I exclaim as I take the box and set it on the coffee table. I grab plates and napkins from the kitchen and gesture for him to sit on the couch. “What kind did you get? I didn’t think to tell you my favorite, but I’m not too picky. Unless you got pineapple or anchovies. Neither belong on pizza as far as I’m concerned, but I can pick them off if I need to.”
When I sit beside him, Cole looks tense. His hands are clasped between his spread thighs and his eyes are flitting from the pizza to me. Finally, he sighs. “Gonna be honest. Went to two different places and asked if they’d ever delivered to this address, then got a repeat of your previous order. It’s meat lovers with jalapeños.”
He investigated me and my pizza habits. I blink, not sure what to think about that. It’s definitely going above and beyond, but also . . . who does that?
Like he can sense me waffling, Cole opens the box and serves me the biggest of the eight slices. I’m not too proud to say that food is the way to my heart after a long day at work, so I take a big bite. I swear, the smallest surrender drops his shoulders two inches, and Cole seems much more relaxed as he takes a slice for himself.
I let him take a bite, then ask, “Stalking, huh?”
He chokes, his eyes going wide as he shakes his head. “No . . . well . . . maybe a little. But for good reason,” he forces out as he swallows.
I hold my hand out, giving him the floor to explain himself, and take another bite of pizza. Cole sets his plate on the table and wipes his hands on his jeans, not like they’re greasy but like he’s nervous. But Cole doesn’t get nervous. Or at least not that I’ve ever seen.
“That morning,” he starts, not needing to say which one he’s talking about, “I wanted to say yes, that we could talk . . . after. But you’d had all these big life things thrown at you like wrecking balls and I didn’t want to be a distraction.” He’s talking slowly, carefully choosing each word. “I wanted to wait” —he pauses, searching for the right words— “for you to find you again.”
I swallow my bite of pizza and give him a tiny hint of a glare. “I found myself in that cabin, partially thanks to you. And then you made me feel disposable. At least with my family, I was expecting it.”
Okay, that last bit might be a bit mean, but it’s the truth. Cole’s rejection hit me out of left field after the amazing morning we’d had, and though I played it off, it hurt . . . a lot.
“Fuck,” he hisses, sounding angry with himself. “I’m sorry.”
“Get to the stalking. Explain that,” I prompt. “How’d you end up across the street from me and I didn’t even realize it?”
“That’s my job.” He shrugs. “I’m good at it.” But then he adds, “I saw Kayla and took your advice. Gave her Louisa’s name and number so someone would know if I was dead in a ditch. And Kayla said I was different, so I told her . . .” He licks his lips and looks me dead in my eyes. “About you. She said I was a coward for not calling.”