Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 96970 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96970 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
Alex met my eyes. “I know this is just physical. Just for experience. But can it also be just for me? I really don’t want to have to explain to my sister that I—”
I leaned in and kissed him, hard. “Just you and me,” I agreed before kissing him again. I held him where I wanted him with a grip of his thick hair.
Why couldn’t I take my hands off this guy? What made him so different?
We kissed for a long time before he melted back against my pillows. “Killin’ me.”
Within a few moments, he was asleep. I looked over at the old digital alarm clock on my bedside table. Two twenty-three in the morning. We’d been fucking around for hours.
The full moon shone through the window enough to set milky stripes along his pale skin.
Don’t go out with Will Wascomb again.
If I thought it hard enough, maybe the message would somehow pass from me to him.
I got up to close the curtains and lock the front door. Before I came back to bed, I stopped at my laptop, which was still open on the kitchen table.
The investigator I’d hired had gotten back to me with a boilerplate explanation about how it would “take time” to narrow the search down to “quality leads” but that he already had a few “irons in the fire” and we were “off to a great start.”
I hesitated before hitting Reply.
Hey Tim,
Thanks for the email, but I’ve changed my mind about the investigation. I was looking for closure, like I explained to you during our video call, but I think… I think I’m going to let it go. Please let me know how much I owe you for the work you’ve already done, and I apologize if I’ve wasted your time.
Thanks again,
Judd Kincaid
I hit Send and felt a weight lift off my shoulders. Max was right. DrunkenPoet had had a chance to find me for a while now, and I was easy to find. The fact that he hadn’t come looking clearly meant he didn’t want to. And I didn’t want to choose a ghost over a real, live, flesh-and-blood man who made me laugh, who made me think, who made me feel… and who was literally in my bed waiting for me.
I closed the laptop and moved quickly toward the bedroom. Then I slid in beside Alex to hold him while he slept.
19
ALEX
IndexEcho: If you could do anything, what would it be?
DrunkenPoet: There’s an old building near my sister’s place. I dream about turning it into something amazing.
_____________________
Sleeping with Judd Kincaid was my delicious, forbidden secret. And I was giddy with it.
I’d slept over at his place three separate times in as many weeks. In fact, the entire month of October seemed to be Kincaid-themed. Or maybe sex-themed.
Did it matter? Was there a difference?
Giving Will the polite brush-off had been hard, only because he was such a sweet guy. I didn’t want to burn that bridge, considering the thing with Kincaid was clearly only temporary, but at the same time, I wasn’t willing to give up sex with Judd to start dating Will.
There was no question whatsoever. I’d take sleeping with the fire chief over dating the boy next door any day of the week.
Unfortunately, Judd and I were both still slammed with work, which meant once-a-week hookups were about the best we could do, especially if we didn’t want anyone finding out about what we were doing.
And I definitely did not.
“Will said you blew him off,” Ella snapped at me over breakfast at the Pinecone one morning. “Tell me why.”
“No.” I took another bite of bacon. It was crisp, salty, and perfect in every way.
She opened her mouth, turned to Tommy and his boyfriend, Foster, and then stared back at me. “You have to.”
“Do not,” I said.
Tommy leaned toward me. “Right, but like… just out of curiosity, what’s wrong with the guy?”
Foster nodded as if it was obvious that something had to be.
“Nothing. He’s great.”
The three of them waited for me to say more. I took another bite of French toast instead.
Ella cradled her coffee mug and stared into it as if summoning courage from its depths before looking back up at me. “You have to tell me because of the sibling code.”
I tapped my chin with my index finger. “I declare myself in contempt of the sibling code and sentence myself to… gosh, was it five weeks of isolation from family? That seems harsh, but okay.”
Tommy muttered under his breath, “Mattie’s wedding,” to remind me I was shit out of luck on getting five weeks’ reprieve.
“Fuck,” I said, reaching for a sip of coffee. “Oh well, two weeks will have to suffice.”
Ella smacked my arm. “Be serious. Poor Will is devastated.”
I mock-frowned at her. “Is he? Because I saw his jeep in Monroe’s driveway a week ago. Didn’t seem like the kind of thing someone would do during a mourning phase, but I could be wrong.”