The Reality of Everything Flight & Glory Read online Rebecca Yarros

Categories Genre: Angst, Chick Lit, New Adult, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 145823 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
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His bedroom looked out over the ocean, and I watched the waves crash ashore with a steady rhythm that nearly lulled me back to sleep. The sky was gray and thick with heavy clouds as a storm moved in, but they didn’t worry me since Jackson wasn’t going to work today. Guess the weather hadn’t gotten the memo that Hurricane Morgan had already made landfall last night.

I’d ripped my friends apart, and though I probably should have been nicer—gentler about it—every word I’d spoken had been true. Will would have been horrified and ashamed of me for what I’d put Paisley through.

Jackson had been proud of me for finally being honest.

Careful not to wake him, I rolled slowly in his arms and watched him sleep like the borderline obsessed woman I was. He was so beautiful that my entire body heated just looking at him. It didn’t hurt that he slept shirtless, either. The man was cut in ways that had to be illegal in some states.

But even as incredibly good-looking as he was, it was his heart that held me in thrall. He was fiercely protective yet gentle when he touched me. His loyalty and persistence were unmatched by any guy I’d ever been around, and yet he never pushed me for more than I was ready to give. He let me move at my own pace without so much as hinting that it was too slow for him. He’d mastered the art of emotional seduction by patience, and that was hotter than the lines of roped muscles down his stomach or even the inked lines of latitude and longitude that ran along his side.

My heart—my stupid, foolish heart—ached with a sharp, sweet throb.

You cannot fall for this man. Not while you still love Will.

I did, right? I still loved Will. But every day that passed, every therapy assignment I conquered, softened the intensity of that emotion. The more time I spent with Dr. Circe, the more I realized that Will wasn’t a sea of grief anymore. He was a mountain in my life, maybe even the mountain. No matter where I stood, I could still see him to the west—but I’d gained enough distance that he didn’t dominate my existence anymore. He was a landmark I could guide myself by, comforting in his permanence. But somewhere in the last few months, it was Jackson who had become the ocean to my east. Deep, calming, and steady, just like those waves that pounded the shore behind me. And he was a touch reckless, too—bending the rules he found inconvenient and breaking the ones that got in his way. But for every danger he might bring, he was also gentle and tenacious enough to transform a broken bottle into a priceless piece of sea glass.

I examined the strong lines of Jackson’s face, so different from Will’s. And maybe it was wrong to compare, but I did it anyway. Jackson was bigger, taller, his body sharper than Will’s compact, lithe frame had been, but he was also soft in the areas where Will had been unyielding. Jackson had no problem standing his ground, but he also knew when to compromise, when to concede, and when to take the risk. I would even argue that he did the latter far too often.

Will had seen the world as black and white—right or wrong.

Jackson would argue that there were ten thousand shades between the two.

My chest tightened the longer I studied him, but the butterflies in my belly were nowhere to be found. There was nothing to be nervous about anymore when I was in Jackson’s arms. I couldn’t do or say the wrong thing, because he wanted me just as I was, hot mess and all. He hadn’t questioned my need to sleep next to him, either.

You didn’t watch the video last night. That’s twice.

The realization hit me at the same time that Jackson opened his eyes.

My heart skipped, and that ache increased a hundredfold as he gave me the sleepiest, sexiest smile I’d ever seen while he stretched.

You cannot fall for him. You. Cannot.

Oh God, it’s too late, isn’t it?

What I felt for Will was entirely separate from the emotions that overpowered me when it came to Jackson. How the hell was I capable of both?

“Good morning.” His voice was scratchy with sleep as his gaze raked over me. “You look incredible in my shirt.”

“Are you regretting last night’s gentlemanly concern for my virtue?” I teased, hoping he couldn’t see how unsettled I felt beneath my smile.

“Not even a little bit.” That smile shifted to a smirk.

“You have the restraint of a saint.” I rolled my eyes, knowing he could have taken me four different ways last night and I would have loved every minute of it.

A millisecond later, I was yanked against Jackson from chest to thigh, his hands like soft vises on my hips and his very large, very hard erection straining between us.


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