Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 55491 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 277(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55491 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 277(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
There were thoughts in my head, but they flitted in and out without connecting.
I forced myself to review what had happened to bring myself back to reality.
I’d been sleeping, but the storm woke me. I’d looked at the clock beside my bed, but it had been dark, so the power must’ve gone out.
Right. How had I not noticed? The power was out at this house, too. That explained why I was showering by candlelight in my hot neighbor’s bathroom. Duh.
Wait.
Oh my gawd! Wes. He’d been such a hero.
I went over it all again, picking up where I left off. The ceiling had caved in on me. A loud crash. Drywall falling. Wetness. I screamed. Then I was shoving heavy boards and plaster off of me and climbing out of bed. Suddenly, a giant man came through my window. Dressed in nothing but a pair of pajama pants.
He’d flipped my bed on its side like the Incredible Hulk.
I didn’t consider myself the damsel in distress type, but that? Epic. And yeah, it definitely made my hot neighbor even more attractive. Was that even possible?
Naked with a kiddie towel, then leaping through broken windows in PJ pants?
Marina was right—he was gruff but kind. Fierce. Protective and concerned.
I felt safe in his house. I felt cared for in his shower. For once, someone was looking out for me, and it felt… good.
By the time I finished showering, the shaking was subsiding. Still, I felt off. I had the sense of something big being caught in my chest or my throat. Like somehow, the storm had entered my body, and now I needed a good cry to let it all out.
I turned off the water and toweled myself dry.
There was no wearing the pajamas I’d had on. They were soaking wet and filthy.
A light tap sounded on the door, and the handle turned. Wes’ hand, followed by a strong muscular forearm, slipped through the crack in the door, holding a flannel shirt. “Here. Uh, if you need something to wear.”
I let out a croaking laugh and took the shirt. He must’ve been listening for the water to turn off, waiting to give it to me. “I do. Thank you.” The fabric was soft and worn. Lifting it to my nose, I sniffed the flannel.
Spicy and dark. Manly. Just like Wes.
I liked that it was his. I slipped my arms through the sleeves, and it fell over my shoulders like a warm blanket. Draped long down to mid-thigh, and I had to roll up the sleeves.
I opened the door, and the candlelight cast on Wes standing in the hallway. He was leaning against the wall opposite, one hand rubbing the back of his neck like he wasn’t sure of his next move. He’d dried off and changed, too, into a different pair of pajama pants. His tattoos were once again on full display.
“You okay?” he wondered. It was dark, the candlelight giving off enough glow for me to see his gaze raked down my body, as if checking again to make sure I wasn’t hurt.
Something bad had happened, but I wasn’t going through it alone. I wasn’t stuck in the mess. I was safe and could deal with the problems that would arise tomorrow. I didn’t have to be upbeat and smiling. I didn’t have to be strong in this moment.
Gah. It was because of that that his two words made tears spring to my eyes. While I did need to somehow get this energy out, crying was the last thing I wanted to do with my neighbor. Crying never solved anything. I wasn’t hurt. I was fine. Whole.
I ducked my head. “I just…I think I’m twitchy from the adrenaline in my system and… yeah, I feel like I need to run a marathon or something.”
“You need to get it out,” he said, as if it was a poison.
I looked up. “What?”
“The excess adrenaline. Otherwise you’ll crash.”
Get it out. Exactly. I needed to get rid of this excess adrenaline. Suddenly, I knew just what I needed to do.
I acted on impulse. My brain was too short-circuited to overthink at the moment. I just stepped right up to Wes and pulled his face down to mine.
Our mouths collided. I was forceful. Aggressive. I put some tongue into it.
His arm looped around my lower back, and the unbuttoned shirt he gave me to wear fell open, baring me to him. But he reared back, breaking the kiss. “Whoa.”
I instantly released my arms from his neck, licked my lips. “Sorry.” I started to turn away, but he used the arm at my waist to keep me in place. “Sorry, I just–”
He studied my face, the flicker of candlelight making the harsh lines of his jaw look even stronger.
“–I just needed to blow off some steam. Like you said.”
“I got you.”