Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 26976 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26976 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
Shit, she was cute, and I couldn’t wait to pop that damn cherry.
How had I not known it was her? I’d studied that entire body from head to toe. Tasted and fucked her in every position. She’s changed.
Those legs were one of the first things I noticed about Autumn. She was the university tour guide. Her mother worked in reception, so Autumn knew that place inside and out.
She wore a yellow sundress that kept lifting in the breeze, making her freak out and trying to contain it. I felt like a horny teenager right then and there for the girl in the sundress. Three months later, we were joined at the hip. I nicknamed her Breezy. She was conservative and sweet, and I was a rogue asshole to anyone but her. We were opposites, but we had a fire that kept burning, gaining heat—until my dad died and I had to move away.
Six Years Ago…
The slamming of the front door, followed by light footfalls, lets me know Autumn’s arrived after I sent her an urgent text message asking her to meet me at my shitty apartment.
“This better not be a booty call, Luc. I skipped a lecture,” she singsongs, coming into the room and throwing her bag onto a nearby chair.
So casual. So domestic. So normal.
My solemn face alerts her to the severity of me wanting to see her. Her arms fold under her tits, and she begins chewing her fat, juicy bottom lip. She’s so breathtaking, I want to sink into her heat and forget the call I got earlier. Her short brown hair bounces around her shoulders as she shifts from foot to foot.
“What is it, Luc?” She sounds hoarse, a lump already building in her throat.
Pain radiates through me. All consuming. Devastating. Debilitating. Not only am I aching from loss, but I’m struggling under the new burden I bear. The thought of going at it alone scares the fucking shit out of me.
“My dad died,” I blurt out, gazing up at her from the couch.
Fuck. Saying it out loud makes it that much more real.
Her expressive eyes widen, then she’s on her knees in front of me, dragging my hands into hers. I live in a cheap ass apartment I rent with two other students, but this had become home. My life. It’s all about to go away.
“I’m sorry, babe. What can I do?” she coos, sadness glimmering in her eyes.
Be with me. Just fucking be with me.
“You can say yes when I ask you to move back with me,” I tell her honestly, my voice gruff with emotion. I don’t know how my life is about to change, but I want her to change with it. I need for her to change with it.
A weird, strangled laugh comes from her, and she drops my hands. “Move back where with you? Are you joking right now, Lucca?”
A chill settles in my bones at her shrill tone.
“I have to go home, Breezy. Sofina needs me. Dad fucking died.” I choke on my words, sucking in a calming breath. “She’s going to be put into the foster system unless I do something about it.” And that’s not fucking happening. “Dad’s bar needs to be managed. Fuck.” There’s so much to do. So much that now weighs heavily on my shoulders. All I want to do is crawl into bed with my girl and fuck away the stress. “I’m leaving. I have to.”
She rises to her feet, a panicked expression marring her pretty face. “Y-You’re leaving me?”
Standing with her, I reach out, grasping her face between the palms of my hands. “No, I’m asking you to come home with me.”
“But t-this is our home, Luc.” She frowns, waving around the shitty apartment as tears streak down her cheeks.
I knew she’d respond this way, yet I put myself out there anyway. For love. Breezy’s life has always been scheduled and orderly. It wasn’t until I blew through her world like a damn hurricane that she lived and let go a little. I’m trying to pluck her from the life she’s designed to come help me parent my sister and run my dad’s bar. It’s a longshot, but it’s one I’m hellbent on taking.
“No, this shithole was never home.” Releasing her, I shake my head, running my hands through my hair. “You’re home. Sofina is home.”
“W-What about school?” she cries out. “You only have a year left! Less even!”
Like I can worry about myself or school right now. Life shoved me down, and I’m just trying to get the fuck back up. Nothing is about me. I have a young girl to think about who will need food on the table and a roof over her head.
“This isn’t a choice,” I bark, anger surging up inside me. Feels a lot fucking better than the hurt. “Sofina fucking needs me. Tell me you get that.”