Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 97684 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97684 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
He swallows.
"I, um, I don't need you to say anything. Or do anything. Or think anything. I just wanted you to know. I want someone to know. Someone who didn't see it up close. Someone who doesn't think I'm broken."
He stares back at me for a minute.
Then he does the very last thing I expect.
He kisses me.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Holden
This is not the appropriate reaction.
Even I understand that.
Hell, there's a voice in my head, screaming what the fuck are you doing?
I can hear it.
But I still can't stop myself.
I wrap my arms around Daisy. Pull her closer. Try, as hard as I can, to feel every inch of her.
She—
I—
Fuck.
My body hums. Not just desire but something deeper. Purer. Something in that part of myself I ignore.
That part that nags at the back of my head. Begs me to slow down. To stop. To feel.
She pulls back with a sigh.
Her eyes blink open. They meet mine for a moment, then they flit to the ground. Her expression gets shy. Nervous. "I, uh…"
"Yeah."
"You don't have to say anything."
"Okay."
"I just—"
I kiss her again.
That same voice screams what the hell is wrong with you?
This time, I have control of my limbs. I can move them. But I don't cede to the logic in my brain.
I know that I should let go, give her space, formulate some sort of verbal response.
But I don't care.
She groans against my lips. Digs her fingers into my skin. Parts her lips to make way for my tongue.
It hits me a little at a time.
Then she pulls back and looks at me with those big, blue eyes and it hits me all at once.
I'm in love with her.
I'm crazy, stupid in love with her.
But I'm not crazy or stupid enough to think now's the time. That ever is the time.
I just—
Fuck.
Her chest heaves with her inhale. "I, uh… I didn't expect that."
"Yeah."
"You, uh… I'm gonna, uh…"
Fuck, I have to say something. "For how long?"
"Oh." Her eyes turn down. "How long was I sick?"
"Yeah?"
"I guess it depends how you define it. If I had to give it a number… two years. Really bad for one. And since treatment ended last July… I'm getting better. I don't have the horrible thoughts anymore. I don't have a self-loathing voice in my head, telling me I'm not worthy. But I… I'm not all the way recovered either. I'm not even sure what that means. If it's possible. Or if I'll always be a little broken."
I want to tell her she's wrong. That she's not broken. That even if she is, I don't fucking care. Because who isn't?
But I need to give her space.
To let her talk.
Her voice stays soft. Scared. "This trip has been different. I guess it's my first time away from my life. From my dad. And Oliver… well, he's hovering. But still. It's nice, not thinking about it as much. Not feeling like the broken girl who has to be handled carefully. You… seeing me as a normal person."
"No one is normal."
"You know what I mean."
I do.
"But I… I guess I just want someone to see all of me. I thought the other night… I thought that was what I needed. And I did. I really did. But I need this too."
"Okay."
"It's okay if you want to ask questions. Or run. Or just not talk about it. Or—"
"No."
"No?"
"You…" Fuck, how do I explain this to her? I don't even understand it. It means so fucking much, that she's trusting me with this. That she's willing to share her burden with me. It means the fucking world.
"You don't have to…" Her voice gets surer. "It's okay if it freaks you out. It freaks me out sometimes too."
"No. It doesn't."
"At all?"
Maybe it should, but it doesn't. "I won't pretend I understand it. But I want to… if you want to share that with me."
Her eyes fix on mine. "Yeah?"
"Yeah. It means the world to me, Daisy. That you trust me with this."
"I do."
"I…" It's not the time. And it's not the thing to say. She's been clear about what she wants. I'm not about to stand in her way. "Thank you."
"Thank me?"
I nod.
She blinks and a tear catches on her lashes. "But…"
"But what, baby?"
"I…" Her fingers brush my wrist. My forearm. My waist. "You don't think I'm a freak?"
"No."
"You don't want to run?"
"Do you want me to?"
"No." She rests her head on my chest. "Maybe. I don't know."
"I don't want to."
"You promise?"
"Yeah."
I pull her closer.
Her fingers dig into my t-shirt.
Slowly but surely, her body melts into mine.
We linger at the table, talking, eating, sipping tea.
She lays her heart bare for me. It's beautiful. And terrifying. But not for the reasons she thinks.
She's halfway through a story about her brother when her phone buzzes. Luna and Oliver are on their way back to the house.
At the moment, I don't care. I want to sit here with her and soak up every second.