Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 92043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92043 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
“Right,” I said as the sound of voices drifted over from the kitchen.
“We’ll be down in a while,” he said.
“Who are you talking to?” I asked, hurrying to catch up to him.
“My dad said my mom made breakfast.”
“Because it’s not weird at all that you have conversations across the house without raising your voices,” I said as we climbed the stairs.
“I don’t even think about it,” he replied. “When I was a kid, I forgot that my mom couldn’t hear us, though. Got me in trouble a few times when I was really little, and I assumed she heard me when I went to play outside.”
“Yikes.”
“Yeah. I only made that mistake twice.”
“Twice?”
“The first time, they reminded me that I had to go to her and make sure she heard me. The second time my dad spanked my ass.”
I grimaced.
Ambrose shrugged. “It worked. I didn’t ever forget again.”
“So if I want you to remember something, I should just slap you. Good to know,” I said sarcastically.
Ambrose pulled me into his room and closed the door, pressing me against it.
“When I grew up, going outside alone was dangerous. Going outside without either of my parents knowing? Even more so. In my father’s eyes, corporal punishment was preferable to a dead son. You disagree?”
“Yeah, yeah,” I replied, staring at his mouth. “I hear you.”
The tether between us pulled tight as he tilted his head down. But I’d just slept for hours with my mouth open, and I didn’t want him anywhere near it before I’d brushed my teeth.
Ducking under his arm, I smirked at his disgruntled expression.
“Shower, remember?” I asked, grabbing my bag. “Point the way.”
“Haven’t you been in here yet?” he asked, walking through the bedroom to the bathroom.
“I’ve been using Zeke’s,” I replied, taking in the space.
The shower was massive and looked like it had been made out of river rock. The light above the shower made everything bright, but the colors and textures in the bathroom were…cozy. I’d been in some pretty fancy hotel bathrooms thanks to Zeke, but Ambrose’s was by far my favorite. Everything was spotlessly clean, and I was pretty sure the tile beneath my feet was heated.
“You can use whichever showerhead you want,” Ambrose said, gesturing toward them. “Handles are underneath.” He walked over to the sinks and opened the cabinet beneath them. “Towels and extra toiletries are in here, but there’s also shampoo and soap in the dispensers inside the shower.”
“You have dispensers in the shower?” I asked, walking over to peek behind the clear glass wall that only covered half the shower. “Like a hotel?”
“I don’t like having a lot of clutter,” he replied.
“So if I leave all my bottles and containers everywhere, it’ll drive you nuts?” I joked.
“Baby, you can leave your shit strewn across the house.”
“That’s what you say now,” I teased, setting my bag on the floor. “But once you’re getting it on the regular, your tune will change. It’s all part of the chase.”
Ambrose laughed. “If I’m getting it regular, I’ll care even less about the mess you make.”
“We’ll see,” I mused.
We stared at each other. The more I knew Ambrose, the more I liked him. He was nice. No, he was kind. Nice was surface, kind went deeper. He was thoughtful. He treated Charlie like a long-lost family member. The whole family did, because to them, he was.
He was considerate and attentive, but he recognized when I needed space and gave it to me, like the night before when Charlie and I were talking.
He also wasn’t a pushover. When it came to arguments, he seemed to give me a pretty long rope, but the knowledge that he would yank me back was always present.
Plus, he was just ridiculously hot and could do things with his mouth that I hadn’t even known were possible.
Ambrose smiled, like he knew exactly what I was thinking, and I looked at his mouth, the canines slightly longer than the rest of his perfectly straight teeth.
His smile widened.
“Stop reading my mind,” I ordered with a laugh.
“Stop making it so easy,” he replied as he walked away.
The shower was as functionally pleasing as it was beautiful, and I stayed in longer than I’d planned because the hot water was so soothing against the back of my neck and shoulders. We’d been showering in shitty motel room showers for so long, I’d almost forgotten how nice it was to bathe in a place where I wasn’t worried about catching some kind of foot fungus. By the time I climbed out, I felt like I’d been reborn.
My clothing options were minimal because I’d had to leave half of them behind when I’d stopped at the apartment in Baltimore. Thankfully, I still had plenty of bras and underwear, four pairs of socks, two pairs of clean leggings, and a couple of clean shirts. I threw on an extra-large shirt screen printed with a cheesing Mona Lisa on the front. I’d need to do laundry soon, but that was a problem for tomorrow.