Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 71858 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71858 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
When you moved around a lot, you didn’t really like to gather a lot of extra ‘crap.’
Extra crap just meant that you would have to pack it and move it.
But there were a few personal items over my mantle, right underneath where I’d mounted the television.
Sometimes, during commercials, or hell, even during my shows, I’d find myself looking at the photos and not the television.
She walked to the photos and stopped in front of the most recent one that we had taken together.
The photo of us on Easton’s graduation night.
Easton had taken it for us outside the restaurant that we’d gone to with his mother.
Even after an awkward as hell dinner, we still managed to have a good time.
And I knew that the woman that was the love of my life was the reason for that.
She could make any situation, good or bad, better just by being there.
That particular night it’d been windy.
Beckham’s hair had been flying all over the place.
The photo was of her hair flying, and her hands at her hair to try to hold it in place. Her eyes were shut, and there was a huge smile on her face as she laughed openly.
Then there was me, staring down at her in awe.
Love was plain to see on my face, and it was more than obvious that she was it for me.
She was my one and only.
I knew it then. I knew it now.
Today, I’d seen her for the first time in eight years.
Eight long, really sucky years.
But the moment that we’d walked back into each other’s lives? It was like nothing had changed. It was like only a night had passed instead of nearly three thousand days.
We’d dropped back into our roles so seamlessly that there was only one reason that we could do it so easily—we loved each other. No matter what.
No matter how much time had passed.
“This is blown up and has a place of honor on the wall in my bedroom,” she said. “I had it in my living room, but I spend most of my time in my bedroom. I get to see it way more in there.”
I came up behind her and wrapped my arms around her.
She leaned her head back into my chest and we both stared at that photo.
“We need a newer, more updated one,” I declared. “I’m not saying that you’re not beautiful right there, but Jesus Christ. When I first saw you today? It took my breath away. You’ve turned into a stunningly beautiful woman, and I’m really kind of fuckin’ sad that I wasn’t there to see it.”
She turned in my arms, and I loosened my hold on her long enough for her to move.
When she came to a halt, it was with her head leaning back on my arms, and the front of her body pressed to the front of mine.
Like always, my dick was hard when I was around her.
But this time, it was really hard because it knew what it was about to get.
Her.
Her sucking me off in my buddy’s office had definitely taken the edge off of years of deprivation, but it wanted the real deal. Her pussy.
And it wouldn’t take a hand or a mouth for a substitute.
Not when it knew what it was missing.
“I need to take you to bed,” I told her bluntly.
She grinned wickedly at me.
“Show me to your room, Troup.”
It was so weird having someone call me by my given name.
I hadn’t gone by Troup in a very long time.
Aoki? Yes. State? Double yes. Troup or Trouper? Only her and Easton called me that now, and Easton usually leaned toward ‘bro.’
But God, nobody ever said my name like she did.
Taking a step back so that she could step around me, I guided her to my room with a hand on the small of her back.
The moment that we made it to the bedroom, her breath hitched.
“You still have our comforter,” she whispered softly.
That day after we’d spent the night under the stars on that blanket she’d purchased, a huge king-sized green flannel monstrosity, I’d packed it into a duffel bag and taken it home with me.
I’d used it every night since that I’d stayed in my own home.
After having been washed a hundred times, it was so soft that it felt like butter against my skin.
And sometimes, during the dark of night, I would pretend that it was Beckham’s body wrapped around me, her soft skin rubbing against mine instead of the comforter.
She looked at me with a huge smile and then disappeared into the bathroom.
Giving her some space to do her business, I walked over to the closet and slowly started to peel out of my clothes.
Once my dirty things were in the hamper, I walked over to the nightstand to plug in my phone out of habit and put my weapon underneath the mattress.