Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 99736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Aww, fuck. We’re both so screwed.
My heart steadies, and the fog slowly lifts.
He’ll give me whatever I need. What I need is Brody.
“I need you to kiss me again,” I whisper.
He leans in, everything I want moving closer, painfully slow inch by torturous inch, and then, right when I think his lips are going to be back on mine, he moves away and stands, holding out his hand for me. “I will. At home.”
“Home?”
“I want you to keep living with me. In your room. Until the day you’re able to fall asleep in mine.”
“But if I eventually take your bed, where will you sleep?” I joke.
Brody ignores it and drags me towards the exit.
“Wait. I need to tell Law and Reed we’re going.” I change our direction.
“Was this a set-up?”
“Yeah, and I’m sure they’ll be all smug about knowing it worked.” I pull up short when we reach the table, and my brother’s eating my meal. “That’s not my dinner or anything.”
Law shrugs. “I ordered Reed’s favourite knowing you two wouldn’t be eating.”
Cocky son of a bitch.
“You knew I’d go talk to him?”
Law puts his cutlery down and stands. “Faith, brother. I had faith you’d do the right thing.”
I’m engulfed in his arms before I can ask him where the punchline is. There’s a very good chance I’m about to get emotional and shit, so I push Law away and play it off like our usual roughhousing.
“You sure you two don’t want to join us for dinner?” Reed asks.
Brody and I say, “No,” at the same time and then laugh, because it’s pretty obvious what our emphatic rejection means.
Reed stutters and says, “Uh … umm, have fun with that.”
I have no doubt. Because as Brody leads me out of the restaurant and to his car, I realise I’m not nervous. There are no trigger symptoms firing, and there’s no dread in the pit of my stomach. All I have is anticipation and need, and they’re propelling my feet forward faster than normal.
Brody opens the passenger door for me, and I can’t help myself. I steal a kiss, soft and quick.
When I pull back, I stare him dead in the eyes. “Drive fast.”
“No.”
My eyebrows shoot up to my forehead. “No?”
“I made a promise to myself when I found out what happened to you that I’d protect you with every fibre of my being. And that includes taking care of you on our death-trap roads.”
My chest burns. With longing, with love … with everything that is essentially Brody.
“You’re kinda perfect.”
He dramatically opens his arms wide and laughs. “He finally gets it.”
Yeah. Finally.
28
Brody
The anticipation on the way home from the restaurant might literally kill me. My heart is worried Anders could change his mind at any moment and take it all back.
I can’t change who my father is, and I do understand where he’s coming from.
To him, I’m just like my dad.
I want to tell him I quit my job, but at the same time, I need him to push through this obstacle. As hard as it will be for him to support my career as a defence attorney, I need him to promise to keep trying with me.
I quit because it was the wrong career choice for me, not to win him back, and I want him to understand that first before I tell him what I did.
My hand is on his thigh, his hand on top of mine. Anytime his grip loosens the tiniest bit, I expect his hand to leave completely and I hold my breath. Then he smiles and holds tighter as if he knows what he’s doing.
While I want to get Anders home as fast as possible, I’m wary about pushing too fast or that he’ll change his mind or have another panic attack. I need to make sure to take this slow so I don’t lose him for good.
I can’t let that happen.
I’m in this, hook, line, and sinker.
“Are you hungry?” I ask. “We did leave before food.”
“You got anything at home we can cook after?”
“After? After what, Anders?” I ask as innocently as possible.
“If you weren’t so adamant about road rules, I’d lean over there and give you a preview.”
Suddenly, the speed limit is more of a suggestion than a law. My reservations are drowned out by the need to get home as soon as possible.
The second I pull into our underground garage and park in our designated spot, Anders’ seatbelt is off. He comes across the centre console, and his lips land on my cheek and then my neck.
A moan escapes and I throw my head back on my headrest. I want to reach for him. Touch him. But I know our problems haven’t disappeared. If anything, they’re only more complex.
And they are our problems. Not just Anders’ anymore.
I want to work through them with him.