Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 129323 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129323 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
We’re both riveted to the screen, and I can’t stop smiling at how many times Cassidy has quoted some of my favorite lines. This girl is an enigma. One I wholeheartedly want to figure out.
With every moment I spend with her, something shifts.
“So I have to know… which is it? Christmas or no?”
She grins before rolling her eyes. “Does it really matter? It’s a kick-ass movie. Who the hell cares if people think it is or isn’t a Christmas movie? I’ll watch it any time of the year.”
“If someone feels that strongly that it’s not a Christmas movie, I let it pass. To each their own.”
“Exactly,” she says. “I like it no matter what.”
I grin manically because that is a non-answer if I’ve ever heard one. I stand by what I said. If someone says it’s not a Christmas movie, I won’t argue with them. But I say yes.
“Okay, but really. Which one?”
Her head lolls back on a groan.
“Why do you men always have to make big deals out of things that aren’t?”
I guffaw, playing at hurt. “You men? I’m shocked you’d make such generalizations.”
“I’ve yet to meet a man who doesn’t demand you choose a side where Die Hard is concerned.”
“Everyone has an opinion, and yours can’t be that generic.”
She laughs. “I don’t personally think of it as a Christmas movie, but then again, it wasn’t something I watched around Christmas. You and me—”
She stops mid-sentence, staring off into space.
“You and me,” I press, but she swallows and waves her hand.
“We’re just different.”
It’s all she says, and it makes zero sense in the context of our conversation. She snaps her mouth shut and turns away, acting strange yet again.
“What’s next?”
Just like that, she shuts down any possibility of me prying by moving on to the next topic.
I turn on some lame drama, and I’m not at all surprised when Cassidy dozes off.
The TV plays a political show, but I don’t pay any attention. I’m lost in thought. My mind races from Cassidy’s reactions tonight, all the way to tomorrow’s game.
Typical.
My head is always yo-yoing from one thing to the next.
At some point Cassidy nestles into my side, laying her head on my shoulder, and all feels right in the world. My mind eases and eventually clears; all I can focus on is her steady breathing. This feels familiar.
Like home.
I grind my teeth, so fucking tired of thinking of the past.
Right now, I’m just going to bask in the moment with Cassidy’s warm body next to me. Because at the end of the day, this is what my life is now, and nothing can change that.
26
CASSIDY
The mouthwatering scent of eggs and bacon has me stirring awake. For a moment, I think I’m dreaming. I pop one eye open and immediately sit up, scanning the area.
I’m on Aiden’s couch, with a blanket wrapped around me. He hadn’t woken me last night when I fell asleep watching the movie. He took care to ensure I was comfortable, though, and I was.
That gesture warms me from the inside.
“Wakey wakey, Sleeping Beauty. Breakfast is almost ready.”
I blink several times, completely confused by what’s occurring. I’ve never seen Aiden cook here, and definitely not for me.
I wipe the sleep from my eyes. “I’m supposed to be doing these things for you,” I say, and he smiles.
“You were sleeping pretty peacefully. I didn’t wanna disturb you.”
“That’s my job.”
He half rolls his eyes. “You’ve taken such great care of me, Cassidy. It’s the least I can do.” He flips bacon on the stove, looking like he’s done this a thousand times.
“If you want to get ready, it’ll be done in a couple of minutes.”
I jump from the couch, rushing toward the back to get my toothbrush and a few other accessories to pull myself together. I chance a glance in the mirror and grimace.
I’m sure there are people who look worse in the morning, but this is not how I would want Aiden to see me.
He never cared about those things.
I shove that thought away. He isn’t the Aiden I once knew…or is he?
When I’m finally presentable, I make my way to the small dining nook, taking a seat when it’s clear Aiden has finished cooking and doesn’t need help. I watch as he dishes out eggs, bacon, and toast onto a plate and slides it to me.
Having him do this makes me uncomfortable. I’m not used to anyone taking care of me. It’s what I do for others, but it’s rarely reciprocated.
Aiden has never been like the other people in my life. He always made sure I was taken care of before himself. It appears some things haven’t changed, and that makes me smile.
I smother it, not wanting him to pry into my internal musings.
“Are you ready for your game tomorrow?” I ask, lifting the fork to my lips and popping a piece of bacon into my mouth.