Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 119152 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 596(@200wpm)___ 477(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119152 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 596(@200wpm)___ 477(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
I blink, that last part kicking me in the balls. Fuck, point for her. Pulling back, I clear my throat. “There’s soap in the bathroom. Fresh towels. Have a good night.” I walk away, the sexy sound of her giggling at my back.
“Ben?” I stop and turn toward her. “Thanks. For everything. I appreciate it. I’ll be out of your hair as soon as I can.” I gaze back at her, unsure how to respond. Too many things are racing through my mind. The past, the present. Why did I make that fucking deal? How do I tell her she can stay forever? Why are these feelings for her so intense?
“Yeah. Again, I’m here to help. Night.” I turn around and walk to my room before I do or say anything stupid. Tearing off the stupid tank top, I discard my jeans and throw myself on my bed. I’m tired as hell but feel like sleep will be non-existent for me. How can I sleep knowing she’s just a room away?
My hands swipe down my face. I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me. I’ve made it this long without attaching myself to a woman, and when I finally do, it’s her. And I can’t let it go. I can’t stop thinking, hoping, wanting something I’m not sure I can have. Needing something I can’t fathom losing. I wonder if this is how my mom felt about my dad. This pull. This urgency to want, take, own.
Just thinking about her lying in bed so close rattles me. My cock starts twitching, telling me to go tuck her in. And damn, I wish I could. Maybe I can call Hannah and make some stipulation to our agreement. Possibly make a counteroffer or blackmail her. I’m pretty sure she doesn’t want her brother to know she slept with his best friend on his wedding day. “Hmmm. . . that could work.”
There’s a light knock on my door. “Yeah?”
Makayla peeks her head inside. “Hi. Sorry. I—I—I’m having trouble changing out of my clothes with these bandages on my hands. . .” I sit up. The light from the hallway glows against her face, illuminating the nervousness in her features. “You know what? I can probably—”
“I got you.” I get up, uncaring that I’m in my boxers sporting a semi.
“I’m not trying anything. I just can’t get my—”
“No funny business. How about this? Go back to your room and shut the lights off. I’ll grab you a big T-shirt. That way, you’ll be able to easily slide it off in the morning since I have to leave early for my shift. I’ll even keep my eyes closed. Deal?”
She seems to relax and nods. “Okay, deal. Thanks.” I walk over to my closet and snag her a shirt. She can’t help herself and glances at my chub, then rushes out of my room. I follow her down the hallway. Her lights turn off as soon as I step into the doorway.
“Can I come in?”
“Yeah.”
When I enter, the room is pitch-black. I leave the door open enough to see her silhouette and walk up to her, stopping a few inches away.
“Do you want to stay in your yoga pants?”
“No. They’re rubbing against my bandage.”
“Okay. I’m going to remove them.”
“Okay,” she whispers. I slowly slide them down her legs, careful not to brush against her wound. She steps out, and I place them on the end of the bed.
“Ready for the shirt?”
“Yes. Are your eyes closed?”
I hold in a chuckle at the shakiness in her voice. “Yes. Hands up.” She lifts her hands, and I bring her shirt over her head, careful not to pull at the bandages around her hands. Just as slowly, I replace it with my T-shirt. “There. Would you like me to unsnap your bra?”
“No. No, I’m good.”
Shame. “All right. Well, if you need anything else, come get me.”
“I will. Thanks.”
Even though our vision is hindered by the darkness, I can sense the pull. I don’t say another word and turn and walk out. Two things are certain when I get back into my own bed: I’m nowhere near ready to sleep, and my cock is pissed at me.
Chapter 22
Makayla
“I’ll catch you all later.” I hear the voice seconds before somebody plows into me. My books fall as my nemesis almost tackles me to the ground.
“Ah, look who it is. What are you doing out so late, duckling? Lost your flock?”
I straighten my glasses and peer up at Ben. His hair is wild as always. He glides his fingers through it to push it out of his face, allowing the moon to light up his features. In another lifetime, I would find him attractive. His cheeky smile. The way his one brow always rises when he’s amused. But in this lifetime, I hate him. “Not as lost as you are. Clearly you forgot how to walk in a straight line.”