Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 104305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
He had even stayed afterward when I thought he’d bolt.
I rose up on my elbows and glanced at the other side of the bed…
Empty.
Somehow he had managed to slip out sometime between me falling asleep and now. All without waking me. That was a feat in itself, especially when I had a damn dog.
“Where’d he go?”
Timber flopped over on his side, glanced at me and then yawned big.
“You let him go without waking me up?”
Traitor Timber did a little woo-woo.
“You couldn’t do that when he was sneaking out?”
My dog licked his chops, then sneezed.
I flopped my head back on the pillow and stared up at the ceiling, curious as to what time Chase left.
I had no doubt it was not long after we had sex that second time.
Last night, Chase seemed starved both times.
For attention. For simple physical contact.
For even more complex intimacy.
I was willing to give him that and so much more.
Whatever he wanted, I would offer. He would only need to accept it.
While last night proved we had a physical connection, what was still missing was the emotional bond. Something I knew better than to expect, but still held onto a sliver of hope that one day it might be there.
I wanted more from a man who might not be willing to give it. I tried to convince myself that it was because Chase was the first gay man who lived close since I moved to Eagle’s Landing.
Having a convenient sex partner would be perfect. However, for some damn reason, now that I had a taste of him, I wanted more than just a friend with benefits. I wanted to continue to peel back his protective layers to discover who he was at his core and maybe help him find himself again.
But first, I should make an appointment and have my damn head examined. Because anyone in their right mind wouldn’t take a man like him on as a challenge.
Not a damn one.
But then, us writers were a bit weird. We had to be. We listened to the voices in our heads and wrote down everything they said.
That couldn’t possibly be considered normal.
I sighed, scrubbed my hands down my face, then rolled out of bed. “C’mon, Traitor. I’ll let you out.”
Timber jumped from the bed with an excited bark and waited impatiently by the bedroom door as I glanced around to see where my boxers ended up after Chase tore them from me that second time.
I had no idea where they were. Unless he took them as a trophy. A reminder of how good our night was together.
I snorted.
At least it was good sexually. Emotionally and conversationally it was a bit lacking.
I assured myself that would come eventually, once he pushed free of the grief and guilt that weighed him down.
After pulling a clean pair out of my dresser drawer, I yanked them up my legs.
First, Timber. Then shower.
Soon after that, and most importantly, a pot of damn coffee. I would need an extra mug or two of caffeine to function today.
Maybe later, I’d shoot Chase a text to check up on how he was doing. But for now, I’d leave him alone.
I only hoped he wasn’t beating himself up over it. Since he seemed to be a bit looser during the second round of sex, I took that as a good sign.
Even then, he still held back.
Baby steps…
Timber rushed by me when I walked out of the bedroom, glancing around to make sure Chase wasn’t still in my apartment and waiting for me to wake up.
Of course he wasn’t.
But what was waiting for me on the counter was the manilla envelope with my manuscript. I had forgotten that was the excuse he used to show up last night.
Once I let Timber outside, I headed back over to it, sliding out the pages that made up my first draft.
The words written in red ink across the top of the cover page caught my eye. Not much to say except… Don’t change a damn thing.
I was not expecting that kind of note from Chase aka C.J. Anson.
I ran a fingertip over his handwriting. It was made up of sharp slashes and hardly readable, reminding me of a doctor’s.
I flipped through the pages only to find a few missed typos marked and some very minor grammar tweaks. Other than that, not much else.
Again, a huge shocker.
I figured he’d slash chunks of narrative, making my manuscript look like a murder scene with all the red.
With a smile, I slapped the manuscript back on the counter, then whistled all the way into the shower.
Yes, I’d be checking in with Mr. Chase Jones later today.
And now I couldn’t wait.
CHAPTER 17
Chase
Standing at the edge of the lake, I stared out over the water without seeing a damn thing. I was exhausted from last night since I didn’t get a wink of sleep.