Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83814 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83814 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Any other circumstance and it would be way too cold to be out here right now, but this is absolutely dream-like perfect.
I float on my back for a while, staring up at the stars. It makes me feel small, but in sort of a good way.
Most of the time, feeling small means feeling like I’m all alone in the world. But for some reason, the cold, uncaring reaches of space is weirdly comforting.
Maybe I’m just bizarre like that.
But knowing that everyone is stuck under the same sky looking at the same stars and dreaming the same dreams is comforting. Especially since there’s nothing else out in the vast darkness.
Well, except for aliens, obviously.
But the water is exceedingly comfortable, and the view out over the river is immaculate. The good vibes from my piano session earlier in the day are still lingering, and I feel halfway decent for the first time in a while.
I flip around and lean forward on the edge, elbows on the rim and kick my legs out behind me, my butt raised slightly. I like the contrast between the chilly air and the warm water.
It’s almost like relaxing in a bathtub. Like a bathtub with an incredible view.
This, right here, is the life. I could seriously get used to this. For the first time, I’m starting to think that living with Alex won’t be so bad.
Until the sliding door opens and his boots stomp on the balcony.
“You need to get inside,” he snarls at me.
I look up in surprise. Alex stands beside the pool staring down at me with a look caught between rage and uncertainty. He keeps glancing around like someone’s going to attack him at any moment.
I shove away from the wall. “What happened?”
“Just get inside.” He reaches down as I swim over and he drags me out when I put my hand in his. He wraps a towel around me and hurries me toward the door, and I go with him, not sure what’s going on.
But the look on his face has me spooked.
“Would you just slow down?” Once we’re in the relative safety of the apartment, I wriggle out of his grip. “Can you tell me what’s going on?”
“Something happened earlier.” His face is wreathed in the darkness of the apartment. There are no lights on except the one in the bedroom. “I can’t explain, but you have to trust me. We need to get you somewhere safe.”
“Alex, we’re in your apartment. I don’t know if there’s anywhere safer.”
He grabs me again. This time, he pulls me to the steps and up into his bedroom. I stumble as he slams the door closed behind him and locks the handle, snarling something about there not being enough deadbolts in this fucking place.
I back away, not sure what’s going on with him, as he turns to face me.
“We’ve been lax,” he says, breathing slowly but deeply. “I’ve been soft on you, printsessa. I haven’t pushed, but that time’s over.”
“You’ve been… soft? This is soft?” I stare like he’s gone insane. A part of me is afraid, but a bigger part knows Alex would never hurt me. Even when he’s like this.
“No more sleeping in the other room. Starting now, you will be where I can protect you at all times.”
“Okay, let’s say we do that.” I take a step away as he moves toward me. “Let’s say I sleep in here with you. What about when you’re gone?”
“I’ll figure that out.”
“What bout when I need to go to the store? Or what if someone delivers food or a package? Can I answer the door? Can I go down and get the mail?”
“Details,” he says, s topping in front of me. I’m backed all the way up to the bed with only a towel and a skimpy bikini between us. I wish I’d worn a conservative one piece—but I don’t actually own any.
“These are important details,” I say quietly, putting my hands on his chest to keep him from overwhelming me. “You can’t just rush in here, drag me up to your room, and act like an attack’s imminent without telling me what’s going on or even thinking about how all of this is going to work.”
His jaw flexes and he stares at me. Then he reaches out and grabs the edge of my towel, right above the knot over my breasts, and unravels it.
The towel slides off my body. My skin’s still damp and goosebumps cover my arms and chest as cold, dry interior air brushes across the moisture. His hands move down my skin like he’s studying me, and a thrill runs into my stomach. I’ve never been looked at this like this before—not since Paris at least. His gaze burns with a mixture of pain and need, like he’s deeply conflicted, until his hands finally land on my hips. His fingers indent the skin on my lower back right above my ass.