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 hesitate, the answer lodged in my throat. It feels too big, too personal to say out loud. But the way he looks at me—patient, curious and without a trace of judgment—makes it impossible to hold back.
I stare out at the water. “Forensic psychologist,” I say softly. “Criminal profiling.”
North’s head jerks back, clearly surprised. “Really?”
I nod, feeling a flicker of excitement just saying the words out loud. “Yeah. I used to devour true crime books and documentaries. I was obsessed with understanding why people do the things they do, how their minds work, what makes them tick and eventually snap. Like, Ted Bundy. Everyone thought he was just some charming guy who tricked women into helping him, but he wasn’t only charming—he was manipulative on a level most people can’t even comprehend. And the way the FBI used profiling to figure out his patterns. Like, knowing he’d return to the same places, or that he had this need for control over his victims—that stuff blows my mind. Or the whole BTK case, where the guy seemed like this normal family man for decades, but underneath it all, he was—”
I catch myself mid-ramble, my hands gesturing wildly, and freeze. “Oh my God,” I gasp, my cheeks heating as I look away. “I’m babbling, aren’t I?”
North doesn’t look annoyed or bored, though. If anything, he looks fascinated, a slow grin spreading across his face. “Keep going,” he says, nudging me with his shoulder. “I’ve never seen you like this. You’re—what’s the word?—lit up.”
I roll my eyes, but there’s no stopping my smile. “Okay, fine. But seriously, profiling isn’t just about catching killers. It’s about understanding behavior, predicting what someone might do based on their patterns, their history. It’s like solving a giant puzzle, but the stakes are so high because it’s not just a game, it’s people’s lives. I don’t know, I just love the idea of digging into someone’s psyche, finding the pieces that everyone else missed, and using that to make the world safer.”
I trail off, suddenly aware of how much I’ve been talking, and press my lips together. “Wow. I really went off the deep end there, huh?”
North’s grin only widens, his eyes soft as they lock onto mine. “Not at all. That was amazing. I’ve never seen you more passionate about anything—except…” His eyes crinkle and he waggles his brows. “Except when you’re in bed with me.”
I bark out a laugh. “I can be passionate about more than just you, you know.”
His hands go up in mock surrender, but the warmth in his gaze lingers. “I’m just saying, you clearly love this. You should chase it.”
For the first time, the idea doesn’t feel completely out of reach. And that realization both terrifies and exhilarates me.
He leans forward, his interest genuine. “My only question is… why aren’t you pursuing it?”
I shrug, staring at the frigid ripples of the river. “I don’t know. I guess I got too lazy. The reasons I had for not going to college… I’m not sure they exist anymore.”
“What were those reasons?” he asks.
“It doesn’t matter,” I say quickly, brushing it off.
He doesn’t push, but his eyes stay on me, filled with curiosity and something else—something that feels a lot like pride.
“Farren,” he says after a moment, softer now, as if he knows the weight of his words. “Just think about it. You’re young and all your dreams are within reach.”
His words settle within me. No one’s ever said anything like that to me before, not in a way that felt this authentic. His eyes are steady, no teasing, but no hard-core pushing. No control. Just him seeing me for exactly who I am and guiding me to be more—not for him, not for anyone else, but for me.
The thought makes my stomach flutter, part excitement, part fear. He’s not demanding anything, not trying to force me into something I don’t want. He’s just holding a mirror up to the pieces of myself I’ve tried to ignore for years. And somehow, that feels more terrifying than any lecture or expectation ever has.
“I’ve never told anyone this,” I admit, the words coming out before I can stop them. “Not Rafferty. Not my parents. No one.” I pause, swallowing hard. “This is the first time I’ve said those dreams out loud.”
North’s expression doesn’t change. He doesn’t gape or fumble for words. He just nods, like it’s the most natural thing in the world for me to open up to him. “Why now?” he asks.
I shrug, my voice small. “I don’t know. Maybe because you asked. And you didn’t make me feel like it was stupid or impossible. Not that my family would, but I’ve disappointed them for a long time. It seems a little late to have ambition.”
His lips curve into a smile, one that sends warmth spreading through me. “It’s not stupid, and it’s definitely not impossible. I know you, Farren. If this is what you want, you’ll find a way.”