Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79564 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79564 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
I laugh, though the sound is shaky. “It couldn’t have been that bad.”
“Worse,” he says, guiding me toward the door. “Come inside before you freeze.”
The heat of his house is a welcome reprieve despite my Canadian blood, and I shrug off my coat, letting it fall onto a chair. North takes the bottle from my hand and moves into the kitchen. I watch as he nabs two flutes from the butler’s pantry and effortlessly pops the cork. He’s so self-assured as he pours two glasses, the fizzing bubbles catching the light.
I take my proffered glass and merely tap it against his before we silently take a sip. North sets his flute down to slip out of his coat, which he drapes over the back of an island stool.
“Anything good happen at the party?” I ask.
North doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, he grabs his bubbly with one hand and me with the other, leading me into the living room. We settle onto the couch, angled toward each other.
“Rafferty updated me at the party about his meeting with Brienne,” he says, swirling his glass.
I nod. “I’m dying to know how her meeting with Tansy went. Rafferty doesn’t seem overly nervous about it though.”
“He knows he has truth on his side,” North replies with a smile. “The drug test as expected was negative and it will only be a matter of time before they prove the reports and photos were doctored.”
Tapping a finger against my glass, I muse, “I still can’t believe Tempe suggested going to Brienne. It felt so risky, but it worked. She’s good for him.”
“She is,” North agrees, tilting his glass toward me. “They’re good together. Like they were made for each other.”
His words tighten something within me. I picture the way Rafferty and Tempe looked at each other this morning, the way they said I love you with such sincerity that it made me want something I swore I’d never let myself want again.
I drain my glass, setting it on the coffee table before turning to him. “It sounds like a happy ending for Raff. He deserves it.”
North sets his glass down, his gaze steady on mine. “We all deserve happy endings.”
The air shifts, his words sounding ominous to me. That urge to bolt takes hold. Everything in me screams to run, but instead, I move toward him. My intent is to kiss, to touch, to distract. Bring this around to what’s really important between us and that’s the sex.
But North places a hand on my sternum, stopping me.
“I want more than this,” he says gruffly, his gaze penetrating me so deeply, I feel gutted.
“More than what?” I ask hesitantly. “Because right now, we’re just sitting on the couch.”
North doesn’t roll his eyes but somehow his stare intensifies. “You know what I’m saying because you’re a million times smarter than I could ever hope to be. I want more than this secretive, casual thing we got going. I want all of you, not just the parts you’re willing to give. I want to take you out on dates and have you cheer for me at hockey games.”
I pull back, panic creeping in. “I can’t do that.”
“Why?” he pushes, not harshly but with the conviction that he’s right, and I’m wrong.
“Because I can’t,” I snap defensively.
“You can if you want to,” he counters, his voice calm but insistent.
“I don’t want to,” I say, enunciating my words slowly.
“But why?” he repeats, unwilling to let me off easy. His head is tilted in genuine curiosity. “Tell me what’s holding you back.”
I shake my head, eyes resolutely holding his so he understands how firm I am in my convictions. “It’s something that happened a long time ago.”
North doesn’t reply. Just waits.
“It doesn’t matter what happened,” I say before he can try to push me for details. “What matters is that the woman I am today doesn’t trust in commitment and that’s not going to change.”
“But what is your definition of commitment? I’m just asking we openly date. I’m not asking you to move in, get married or have my kids. I’m just asking for something more normal than hiding in the shadows.”
“I get that,” I say, blowing out a frustrated breath. “But taking this to the next level will eventually lead to higher levels. And you’re going to want more than I can give, and when you push for it, I’ll run.”
His brow furrows. “You’ll run?”
I look around, searching for the right words to make him understand. My thoughts are disjointed and it makes me feel stupid. That, in turn, makes me feel desperate for understanding.
“Every time someone gets close, I bail. My parents and brother say I’m free-spirited because I do things on a whim, but the truth is, I’m running from commitment. And that’s more than I’ve ever admitted to anyone so you should be grateful for that level of explanation.”