Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 90795 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90795 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
“This is different. It’s not sex. And I know it’s a bad idea. I’m trying to talk myself out of it, but…” He sighs like he’s not sure how to get this part out, like he’s not sure if he wants to. “I trust you. I don’t understand why, but I do. And I like the way you make me feel. There hasn’t been much in my life to make me feel good, especially lately. It’s not easy for me to admit that. I already regret it.”
“I’m glad you admitted it.” I find myself smiling. I like this man more than I should.
“Of course you are.” He shifts his position as if he can’t stay still. “Is that all? I really need to get home and check on the kids.”
None of this is expected. I feel like nothing about him ever is, and I find that incredibly fucking exciting. I pull out my cell phone. “What’s your number?”
I’m surprised when James easily rattles it off to me. I type it into my phone, then send him a quick text so he has mine as well.
“Is that a yes?” he asks.
“It is. I’ll text you in a little while, and we’ll talk more. And thank you.”
He frowns. “What are you thanking me for?”
“Trusting me. I won’t let you get in trouble. I promise.”
He sighs, his gaze holding mine. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Mr. Hathaway.”
“Sir,” I remind him, and damned if he doesn’t smile.
“Sir.”
And this time when he walks away, I let him go…smiling the whole time too.
CHAPTER TEN
James
When I get home, Sadie is lying on the kitchen counter with her head in the sink, Nash standing beside her and washing her hair. I’ve never seen them do this before, but I must admit, I haven’t paid attention to when and how or how often either of them wash their hair. It’s not something I would ever consider. And seeing him wash her hair in the sink isn’t something I would consider either.
Nash watches me as I walk over. Sadie must not realize I’m here, or if she does, she hasn’t reacted, but Nash’s gaze is pleading with me about something, begging me to do the right thing, though I have no idea what that right thing is. “It’s wash day,” he finally says.
“Oh. Okay.”
Sadie looks up at me, hair full of bubbles that Nash is rinsing out.
Do girls her age not wash their own hair? I’m not prepared for any of this.
I set my bag on the counter. “Do you…need any help?” I ask, hoping that’s not the wrong thing to say. The way Nash’s familiar brown eyes narrow at me, shooting daggers, tells me it absolutely was.
“She’s my sister. I’ve been doing this her whole life. I can handle it,” he snaps.
I don’t bother mentioning she’s my sister too. Nash is very protective of her and sees me as some kind of competition.
I have a million questions, but I don’t know how to ask them, and that just makes the hairs on my nape rise, make me feel useless and unwanted, two things I’ve always struggled with. How could I not when there’s never been a time in my life that I have been wanted?
Colton wants you. He’s willing to dom you without fucking you. That must mean he really cares in one way or another, right?
All that train of thought does is frustrate me even more. My feeling of inadequacy with my siblings and annoyance at my brain bringing Colton into it makes me snap, “Fine,” as though I’m a child. “I’ll be back out when you’re done to start dinner.”
I go straight to my room, closing the door behind me. I strip out of my slacks and button-up and change into a pair of lounge pants and a T-shirt.
Should I have been washing Sadie’s hair? Is there something I’m missing? How are we ever going to make this work when Nash clearly hates me so much?
I grab my cell and sit on the edge of my bed. To my surprise, there’s another text from Sir.
You should be proud of asking for what you want today. You’re not good at it because you haven’t had people in your life you could depend on. Am I right?
My chest tightens. Why is he asking me this? He’s just supposed to be telling me what to do and…I don’t know, planning my days for me or something.
My fingers linger over the screen. I don’t want to respond, don’t want to let him in, but I’m the one who asked him for this. How can I expect him to follow through if I’m not honest with him? If I don’t help him understand why I am the way I am, which will help him in what he’s giving me.
I’m only doing this because of our arrangement, I tell myself. That’s it. And I don’t have to give him all the details.