Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 71348 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71348 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
That smile broke me, and my shame burned brighter because I couldn’t stand to be around him. I used Estelle and Geo’s entrance into the room to make my escape, and it was an escape.
I was escaping the prison I’d let myself get trapped in, built on pain and fear. It was an escape back to a life I knew well, one without any responsibilities or ties that could hold me down.
God, I was so stupid to even feel that way, and I can only hope Bodie truly understands me.
A groan from the bed startles me, and my gaze sharpens on Bodie. His head rolls on the pillow, and his good arm subconsciously reaches across to scratch at the splint on the other. His face wrinkles with confusion as his fingers touch the wrapping, and then his eyes pop wide open.
Bodie lifts his head up and looks down at his arm. Understanding dawns through his grogginess, and his head starts to fall back as he sighs. But his eyes snag on me before his head hits the pillow, and he freezes. Bodie stares at me an inordinately long time, just blinking his eyes as if he cannot believe I’m sitting there.
“Rachel?” he says in a froggy voice.
“Morning,” I tell him softly.
Bodie’s head falls to the pillow and rolls to the right. He looks out the window at the dawn sky before turning back to me. “How long have you been here?”
“About six hours,” I say.
“Just sitting there watching me?”
“Pretty much.”
“That’s kind of creepy, you know?” His lips are tipped up with his trademark humor, and I know I’ve already been forgiven for succumbing to my fears.
And God, he looks so beautiful even broken and beaten in a hospital bed.
I stand up from the chair and arch my back to stretch. After I place my cell phone on the seat I had just vacated, I walk to the side of Bodie’s bed. I come to stand right by where his injured elbow is resting on a smaller pillow. I don’t say anything for a few reasons. First, because it’s hard for me to express my feelings, but mostly because I know Bodie will lead the conversation to where it needs to go in the most efficient way.
He’ll make the important statements.
Ask the questions that need asked.
Tell me his conclusions.
“You ran,” he says emphatically.
I nod. “I did.”
“And now you’ve come back,” he says in a voice as soft as velvet. “Is this to tell me goodbye?”
I shake my head, giving an apologetic smile. It’s both tragic and sad that he’s even having to ask me that question. “I came back because I was remiss yesterday in not telling you that I love you.”
Bodie’s body jumps almost imperceptibly, as if someone had given him a tiny pinch to his ass or something.
“You were remiss yesterday by not telling me that?” He looks at me with something in his eyes that I’ve never quite seen from him before. It’s a measure of excitement mixed with tenderness. I see hopefulness and yearning there as well.
I lift my gaze and look out the window. The sky is pink and orange, and it makes me feel hopeful.
“When Kynan told me what happened,” I say as I let my eyes wander back to his face. “Something happened to me that I’ve never felt in my entire life. It was a barrenness inside of me because I thought the worst… that you had died. The emptiness was so painful that my world turned gray. I know I’m not describing it right, Bodie, but it was the worst thing I’ve ever felt. It scared me so bad that hopelessness was all I could feel. I didn’t know… that such emotions were possible. I didn’t get it then, but I know now… what I was feeling was heartbreak and grief over losing you. And I was so mad, Bodie. At you and Kynan and Jerico and the fucking people who captured you. At myself, most of all. Because I should have never let myself get involved with you.”
“That explains why you didn’t look like you were happy to see me yesterday,” Bodie says dryly. I get by the smart-ass smirk on his face that he’s teasing me.
I give a tiny laugh. “I didn’t know whether to smack you or kiss you.”
“You panicked instead and ran.”
“I’m sorry,” I say. I reach over the rail and place my hand in the middle of his chest. I don’t want to take his hand for fear I’ll somehow hurt the attached elbow.
“Don’t,” he says softly, bringing the hand on his good arm over to cover mine. He squeezes softly, then lifts my hand to his mouth. He brushes his lips on my fingertips, then returns my hand to his chest where he has me flatten my palm right over his heart. “You’re here now telling me exactly what I want to hear. That’s all that matters.”