Total pages in book: 45
Estimated words: 41825 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 209(@200wpm)___ 167(@250wpm)___ 139(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 41825 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 209(@200wpm)___ 167(@250wpm)___ 139(@300wpm)
It looked like I was moving in. The thought was dangerously intriguing.
I could too easily picture waking up next to him every morning, making coffee while Thayer cooked breakfast. And coming home to this house instead of the cold perfection of my parents’ mansion. No scripted dinners or measuring every word.
This is temporary, Hadley.
I was only here because of a head injury and Thayer’s overprotective streak. We both knew it couldn’t last forever. I had a life waiting for me with lots of expectations. A future that had been planned since before I could walk.
I closed the drawer a little too quickly and twisted my hair up into a messy bun. The reflection in the mirror showed my cheeks were a little pink, and my eyes were bright.
“Stop being ridiculous,” I muttered to the girl staring back at me.
Four days did not equal moving in. No matter how much it felt like I fit here.
But as I walked back into the bedroom and grabbed my e-reader from the nightstand, I couldn’t quite shake the warm glow that had settled low in my belly. Temporary or not, being here with Thayer felt like home. Which was probably why I’d only left twice to have lunch with Jana even though he’d had my car dropped off the morning after he brought me here.
I grabbed the soft throw blanket from the end of the couch and curled up in the corner, tucking my legs beneath me as I powered on my e-reader. The late afternoon light filtered through the blinds, and the house was completely quiet except for the low hum of the refrigerator and air conditioner.
There was no staff moving silently through the halls. I could slouch if I wanted and laugh out loud at something on my screen without worrying about being too noisy, which was freeing in so many ways.
I pulled the blanket higher around my shoulders and let my thoughts drift while I waited for Thayer to get home from the hospital. He’d texted earlier that he’d only be there for a few hours, and I appreciated how he kept me in the loop.
It was something he did regularly. A text to see if I needed anything. A quiet glance when he passed the living room. His awareness of me felt less like my parents’ surveillance and more like he enjoyed having me in his orbit.
I was always conscious of him, too. He didn’t fill the house with noise that demanded attention, but I always knew exactly where he was without having to look.
Shifting deeper into the cushions, a small smile tugged at my lips as I thought about the little things I’d started doing without thinking. Brewing coffee for both of us in the morning, leaving a plate of snacks on the counter when I knew he’d be home soon, and even rearranging the throw pillows because the couch looked better that way.
It should’ve felt like overstepping, but Thayer had told me early on that nothing in the house was off-limits except the locked file cabinet in his office. He’d mentioned it had to do with club business, something I was quickly learning meant I shouldn’t ask questions. But at least I’d been able to explore and learn about him through the things he kept close. Each discovery made the space feel more like ours instead of just his.
When I pictured walking back through the grand front doors of my parents’ house, something inside me recoiled. The idea of slipping back into heels and careful conversation after days of bare feet and Thayer’s oversized shirts felt suffocating.
I glanced at the time on the top of my e-reader’s screen. He’d be home soon. The realization sent a little spark of anticipation through me.
I had been feeding my parents a steady stream of half-truths for four days now. A vague text about staying with a friend, followed by a quick phone call claiming I needed a few quiet days to catch up on online coursework. Nothing outright false, but I hadn’t shared the full picture either.
My mother’s replies had grown increasingly clipped, and my father’s single follow-up message was heavy with the unspoken expectation that I would return to my proper place soon. The guilt sat in my stomach like a stone, but I did my best to ignore it. Because every time I imagined going back, the weight of their world pressed down harder.
The garage door going up pulled me out of my thoughts. My pulse gave a happy little jump before I could talk it down.
He was home.
The door leading into the kitchen opened, and I looked up from my e-reader just as Thayer stepped inside. His eyes zeroed in on me right away, and the intensity in his stare sent a shiver of awareness racing down my spine. It also made me wonder why he hadn’t made another move on me, besides a few kisses that he made sure didn’t spiral out of control.