Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 145123 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 726(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 484(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145123 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 726(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 484(@300wpm)
I need to get it together, and I need to do it quick.
“I’m sorry…you know, for scaring you,” I start and briefly shut my eyes to focus on breathing in a few heart-calming breaths. “I’m okay, I promise…just overwhelmed and medically inept.”
Chase’s eyebrows draw together as I gather myself enough to stand, his capable hands steadying me at the forearms.
“Overwhelmed in a good way, right?” he clarifies, searching my eyes with an intensity I’m in no way ready to give myself over to. I look to the floor, trying to find a sliver of my dignity on the tile surface. Unfortunately, in the face of finding out the book I wrote in secret about this man and me and all of my kinkiest fantasies is going to be spread around the world like butter, fainting into his arms, and just barely pulling myself together enough not to piss myself, all the shreds of my pride are gone.
When I glance back up and into his pretty blue eyes, they’re desperate—silently begging me for the confirmation that I’m ready and willing to tackle the effort it’s going to take to get this entirely different book published successfully.
Which, of course, I am not. Not even close. I’d get to the moon in a go-kart faster than I’m going to get comfortable with this book.
But his puppy-dog eyes and excited spirit are too much to deny. I have no option but to lie my ass off.
“Y-yes. In the best way. Just…I… Well, I didn’t expect a warm reception, and I think it doesn’t feel real.”
My B-size boobs suddenly becoming double Ds with no surgical intervention seems more in line with reality, if I’m honest.
“Oh, it’s real. Accidental Attachment is going to market, and it’s doing it soon. As a matter of fact, we only have four weeks to get it in final draft shape.”
“Four weeks?” I wheeze. He’s got to be kidding me. I haven’t done edits that fast…well, ever.
“I know. It’s tight. But we’re going to work together on this thing every step of the way. I’m not going to leave you alone in this, I promise.”
Ha. Ha. Yeah. That’s kind of what I was afraid of. More scary words from the frighteningly handsome man.
The buzz of light-headedness returns with a vengeance, and Benji crowds my legs. Chase notices the change in my position and jumps into action, shoving me back with a gentle and guiding hold at my arms until I’m seated at one of the freshly cleaned kitchen counter barstools.
“Brooke. Jesus. Look at me, Brooke.”
I shake my head and swivel my hips to lift my legs up onto the counter in front of me, forcing the blood away from my extremities and back toward my brain. The relief that comes with the change of the tide is swift and true, and I gulp a deep lungful of fresh air.
“That’s it. Come on, I’m taking you to the hospital on my damn back if I have to.”
“No!” I snap at first, before steadying my voice and softening my approach when he looks disappointed in me. “Sorry. I just… This happens a lot. I don’t need to go, I promise.”
“A lot? How much is a lot?”
“Are you looking for the subjective conjecture held by society or, like, my own opinion on a number?”
“Brooke.”
I dig my teeth into my bottom lip. “I have a condition called vasovagal syncope. Basically, something triggers a drop in my blood pressure, and boop, I’m dropping into a fainted state like a cast member on Days of Our Lives. It’s not horribly uncommon—maybe you know someone who can’t stand the sight of blood or whatever and passes out—but I’m kind of a standout student in the class. This, well…this makes about nine hundred and seventy-six times I’ve passed out in my lifetime.”
His eyes couldn’t be any bigger right now. “About nine hundred and seventy-six?”
“Okay, exactly nine hundred and seventy-six, but most of those are from my childhood, honestly, before my parents really had a handle on just how much of a nuisance I was.” I offer a nonchalant shrug of my shoulder. “And I almost never get to the point of unconsciousness since I’ve had Benji at my back. He’s specifically trained to catch all the warning signs and get me into a position that optimizes bringing my blood pressure back up to normal.”
Almost subconsciously, Chase reaches down and scratches at my good boy’s ears, and the sweet gesture causes an unfortunate skip in my heart.
“So, what? You just live like this? There’s no treatment?”
I shake my head and shrug at the same time. “Avoid triggers. Stay really hydrated. Move slowly if I’m going to be changing positions, like from sitting to standing or lying down to sitting, et cetera. Other than that, I’m just special, I guess.”
He frowns, entirely unhappy with my answer. “What about medication? There’s got to be something.”