Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 22165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 111(@200wpm)___ 89(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 111(@200wpm)___ 89(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
“What, you don’t answer your phone now?”
“I’m sorry,” I reply. “I’ve been…busy.”
Quickly, I turn and head to the kitchen. She follows me in. I set the tray on the counter and start to do the dishes, but she grabs me by the shoulders and forces me to look at her.
“There’s something…different about you,” she says, eyeing me like a detective. Before I can even respond, her eyes go wide. “You had sex!”
“I…” My tongue freezes in my mouth, and I quickly turn back to the sink and start scrubbing the plates. But Reese isn’t having it. She grabs me again and tugs me over to the table. I plonk down in a chair and let my hair fall over my face.
“Spill,” she insists. “I want to know everything.”
Normally, I have no problem telling Reese everything. But this time, it actually takes me a minute to start sharing. But once she hears that I actually lost my virginity, her jaw drops.
“I knew you’d like him, but oh my God, girl!”
Giddy, I nod and bite my lower lip. “I know, he’s just so…” I squeeze the air in front of me, wishing I had his muscles there to grab on to. I moan and slump back in my chair, trying not to let myself be overwhelmed by thoughts of what we did this morning.
“He’s good for you.” Reese nods, looking like a proud parent. “Aren’t you glad I gave him your number now?”
“Glad? I owe you forever,” I laugh.
The day drags on after Reese leaves. I clean every room of the house to keep myself busy. It doesn’t really need it. Turns out Dawson keeps his place tidy. But I want to do it for him.
It makes me feel good. Domestic. Like a girlfriend. Which is something I’ve never been before. And I just can’t wait for him to come home to a clean kitchen, clean counters, and freshly mopped floors.
Oh, and to a half-naked me lying in his bed.
Or is it our bed now?
My body is buzzing when I hear him downstairs. I picture him kicking off his boots, looking at my handiwork and smiling. As I hear his footsteps coming up, I try to position myself in a sexy way.
But I just end up feeling stupid.
Thankfully, when he enters the room, his eyes light up, and he instantly comes over to me.
Brushing the sheet away, he runs his rough palm up my thigh and over my hip, causing goosebumps to break out all over me. “Miss me?” he asks, oozing confidence as he smiles down at me.
“Yes,” I murmur, pursing my lips for his kiss. It’s amazing such an enormous man can be so gentle.
His eyes flicker to the bedside table where I’ve left my purse, and a bolt of panic shoots through me.
Then, as he reaches for it, all hell breaks loose inside me.
“Dawson, wait. Don’t!”
But it’s too late. He’s already pulling Charles from my bag.
My stomach sinks. Guilt sweeps through me as he holds it out in front of me, one eyebrow raised. My private, discrete secret, discovered by the man I’m falling for. “Why, Evie?”
I don’t know what to say. “I…I’m just used to bringing him with me. I didn’t use him, though!”
I search his face for signs of disappointment, expecting them. But they don’t come. He twists the base, and Charles begins to hum. I blush and cover my face, but I look back when I hear him chuckle.
“So this is what you’ve been using instead of me?”
“Sadly,” I confess. He smiles, turns Charles off, and stuffs him in a drawer.
“You don’t need him anymore, Evie. You have me.”
My heart blossoms.
I don’t need to be afraid anymore. Don’t need to be ashamed.
Dawson has me. And he’s all I need.
11
EVIE
Three days later, I’m standing in Dawson’s kitchen wearing his T-shirt and a pair of mauve sweatpants that he bought me, flipping pancakes like I’ve been doing it my whole life. The sun streams through the windows, and I’m smiling because for the first day since I can remember, I didn’t wake up even thinking about reaching for Charles.
I woke up reaching for Dawson.
And there he was, pulling me close, whispering sweet things into my ear as he slid his hand between my thighs and gave me the kind of good morning that no toy could ever reproduce.
I looked into his eyes and came apart while he covered my mouth with his rough palm to keep me from waking the neighbors.
I’m smiling at the memory when the front door nearly bursts off its hinges.
“Evie Morris, you had better be alive!”
Reese storms into the kitchen like a Navy Seal, only instead of guns in her hands, she has iced coffees. And murder in her eyes.
“I’m alive,” I reply, holding my spatula defensively. “And I’ve been meaning to call—”
“I’ve texted you forty-seven times! I’ve had about enough of this you-ignoring-me thing.” She sets the coffees down and puts a hand on her hips, scanning me from head to toe. “You’re wearing his clothes.”