Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 97073 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97073 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Oh my god. I’m losing my mind. I’ve never had so little to do. I like it but I also hate it. I can’t believe Nate lives this way. I haven’t been without internet access in years. I know he prefers it, but he’d be better off living on a deserted island somewhere. At least then there’d be no harsh winters.
As someone who loves to read, I’m grateful there’s no shortage of books to pick from in this cottage. Nate has a veritable library, but I decide I’m going to do the practical thing and get some work done. I have all my notes for the Cosmos trilogy up in my bedroom: character outlines, plot points, style sheets. It’s at least a hundred printed-out pages I had spiral bound for easy access. I’ve gone through it all so many times I practically have it memorized at this point. The names of the planets and star systems, the crew and every detail of their interpersonal relationships.
Nate hasn’t sent InkWell an outline for book three, so I have no idea where he plans to take the series. I have educated guesses and my own personal hopes, but until he gives me insight into what he’s planning, I can’t really help.
I end up eating every morsel of that chocolate bar, and then I curl up on the couch underneath the blanket, reading through my notes until I fall asleep. In the morning, I wake up with a start, confused until I realize I’m tucked in my bed, nice and cozy under the covers. I lie still, trying to recall how I got up here. Did Nate carry me to bed when he got home? He must have. I don’t sleepwalk.
It makes me feel tingly and weird to know he had me in his arms. Please god, tell me I didn’t rub my cheek against his chest or nuzzle against him like a weirdo. I would.
I look down, worried for a split second before I see I’m still in my clothes from yesterday. He didn’t undress me. Of course he wouldn’t. How inappropriate!
I fling my covers off and accidentally drop them onto Cat, who doesn’t care one bit. He just stays there cocooned in the warmth.
I take a fresh set of clothes into the bathroom down the hall, shower, and change. After I dry my hair, I apply a little makeup, which feels silly because who’s going to see me here except Nate? But getting ready for the day makes me feel better, or at least that’s the explanation I delude myself with. Never mind that most of the time in grad school I’d lumber out of bed and leave my apartment wearing yesterday’s leggings and a sweatshirt pulled from the pile of clothes on my desk chair.
I take my dirty clothes back to my room and tidy up a little bit. A few minutes later, I hear the shower running down the hall, so Nate must be awake now too. I wonder when he got back last night. I’m frowning as I think over what he was doing—his time spent with Alice—and then once I realize I’m frowning, I force a laugh (which feels a little crazy in my room by myself). Cat is the only one around to hear me, and he’s still underneath the covers. He’s only poked his nose out for air.
I’ll need to do laundry in a few days, but for now I still have clothes and underwear to tide me over. I grab a pair of socks and hurry to put them on. My toes are freezing after my shower. Then I head out into the hall just in time to come face to face with Nate as he leaves the bathroom. He has one hand fisting the top of a towel slung low around his hips.
He’s not wearing any clothes.
HE’S NOT WEARING ANY CLOTHES.
The air leaves my lungs in a rush. I need to step to the side so he can get to his room, but I don’t move. I’m in shock. I watch water droplets sluice down his muscular chest and trim stomach. I knew he was tall and formidable, but I didn’t imagine his body was this incredible. Wide shoulders, broad chest, and a tapered waist. My gaze sweeps across him like I have the right to look when I should be covering my eyes and excusing myself, scooting past him as quickly as possible. If he accidentally dropped that towel…
The butterflies come back with a vengeance again. It’s the feeling I’ve wished for a thousand times, only it doesn’t feel quite as innocent as before. It’s accompanied by a tightening in my stomach, a heat that sears. Suddenly, it’s too much.
I close my eyes and shake my head. My hand belatedly flies up to shield my eyes. “I’m sorry!”