Total pages in book: 187
Estimated words: 188957 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 945(@200wpm)___ 756(@250wpm)___ 630(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 188957 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 945(@200wpm)___ 756(@250wpm)___ 630(@300wpm)
“He totally is.”
“Tell me the second reason.”
Oh, right.
Why I wore this particular lipstick?
“The second reason is that I’m out to corrupt you.” Then, grinning and pointing to my lips, “Get it? Cute Corruption.”
His lips twitch. “Corrupt me.”
“Yup. I mean, look at you.” I widen my eyes. “You’re hanging out at a carnival. Who would’ve thought?”
He squints his eyes as if in thought. “True. This is wilder than the movie theatre.”
Which he looked so uncomfortable in. And then he frowned through the entire plot of the superhero movie we were watching.
Well, until I leaned over and kissed him.
Then his focus shifted and he seemed happy.
“I agree. And,” I tell him excitedly, “you tried my cotton candy.”
“I did.”
“Did you like it?”
“Absolutely fucking not.”
I swat his chest and he chuckles.
God, I love to hear him chuckle.
It makes him look younger and more boyish somehow, his lips smiling, his chocolate chip eyes amused.
“Plus you’re relaxing,” I say.
“Oh, is that what this is called?”
“On a Saturday.”
“It is Saturday, yes.”
“And you don’t have your tweed jacket on,” I add, toying with the silver chain of his locket.
Oh, did I mention that I gave him a locket?
It’s to replace the ring on his pinkie.
Because that ring was a symbol of all the things that he never wanted to do, what his father wanted him to be, and so when he quit all his responsibilities, he also gave that ring up. And since I promised to myself that I’d make new memories with him, I got him this tiny locket on a silver chain that he now wears around his neck all the time.
“Only because my girlfriend threatened to throw them all away if I put one on.”
I totally did.
He was actually going to wear a tweed jacket to a carnival. I let him have his way at the movies but not here. Not today.
This is supposed to be fun and he doesn’t need to look all principal-y or professor-y.
So he’s only wearing a dark gray shirt and his dress pants.
And I have to say he is the most handsome guy here.
With his scruffy jaw and his fluttering curly hair, he’s like my personal eye candy.
I raise my eyebrows and bat my eyelashes. “And you agreed because you love your girlfriend so much?”
“I mean, my first thought was my tweed jackets but okay.”
I narrow my eyes. “You’re mean.”
He chuckles again. “Never said I wasn’t.”
I melt at that deep sound and shake my head. “I’m being serious, okay? Did you have a good time or not?”
At this, he brings me even closer, both his arms tightening around my waist as he bends further down. “I did.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you like my friends?”
“I do.” Then, “Conrad’s nice.”
I grin. “Yeah? You liked hanging out with him?”
I had a feeling that he might.
Callie’s oldest brother, Wyn’s boyfriend, is close to Alaric’s age. Plus from what I know about him, he’s very big brother-y and responsible and family’s super important to him. And while Alaric’s family was shit, he still has a very strong sense of morality and responsibility. So I thought they might hit it off.
And it makes me want to squeeze him in happiness that they did.
That feeling only grows when right in front of my eyes, my man’s majestic cheekbones flush and he nods. “We’re hanging out again. Next week.”
Oh my God.
I’m going to tear up, I swear.
I’m so happy. My Alaric is going to hang out with someone.
He doesn’t have friends, see.
He’s always been alone. He’s always struggled.
And I don’t want him to.
Not anymore.
I want him to feel like he belongs, because he does.
He belongs with me.
And not only that, I want him to find friends. To have fun. To go out. To be happy.
To see that people will accept him for who he is and not who he always thought he should be.
Plus he never got to do these things before, back when he was a kid. And this makes me so emotional, that he’s finding it in Conrad and hopefully the other guys.
“So what are you gonna do?” I ask, smiling.
“Play soccer.”
My mouth falls open. “You know how to play soccer?”
His eyes look amused. “Yeah.”
I swat his chest again. “Shut up.”
“I played some in college.”
“Holy shit.” I grab his shirt. “You got at least seventeen times hotter just now.”
“Yeah?”
“Is there anything that you can’t do? Like, anything at all?”
He shakes his head slowly, his eyes still teasing. “Not much, no.”
I sigh. “You’re seriously the Renaissance man, aren’t you?”
The man who can do all the things.
The man who is not only a scholar, a fighter, now a soccer player, but also someone who has the power to make me do things. Who has the power to jack up my heartbeats. To make me feel all fluttery and breathless and safe and heated and cozy and protected.
My Alaric is the most powerful man in the world.