Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92841 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92841 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
“Maybe,” he says, “but when I was watching it, I couldn’t help but think about that night at The Black Cat.”
“It was a mistake.”
“You really feel that way?” he asks, lifting my chin when I drop my gaze. “Because it was the best kiss of my life, and I refuse to believe that anything that good could be considered a mistake.”
My eyes snap up to his, and I open my mouth, wanting to argue. But I can’t because he’s not wrong. The kiss was damn good. And as much as I want to regret it, I can’t find it in me to do so. So, instead, I say the only thing I can think of that’s not a lie.
“It can’t happen again.”
Without waiting for him to argue, I skirt around him and quickly go back to the living room. Shane sits next to me, and Taylor presses play. And even though I should be focusing on the movie, I can’t get the visual of Shane and me having sex on the desk out of my head.
When the first movie ends, Taylor starts the second one.
It’s getting late, but I tell myself that I can make it through this one and then tell her we’ll need to watch the last one another day.
As if Shane can sense me slowly losing the battle, he grabs the blanket from behind the couch and drapes it across our laps. With the warmth of the blanket, the fight to stay awake gets harder, and before I know what’s happening, my eyes are closing, and my head is landing on something firm yet soft. And even though I should question it, the masculine, comforting scent lulls me to sleep.
Warm.
Masculine.
Comforting.
I nuzzle my face further into the scent, wanting to keep this feeling wrapped around me. And then it hits me—Brandon is dead, which means …
My eyes pop open, and I’m met with a hard chest that’s thankfully covered with a shirt.
Oh shit. I fell asleep and somehow ended up spending the night with Shane on his couch. Without moving, I take in my surroundings. Shane is passed out, and his head is at a weird angle that looks like it might hurt. His arm is wrapped around me, and my face is pressed against his chest. We’re in the same positions we were in last night while watching the movie, only closer.
I glance around and find a clock hanging on the wall—ten in the morning. Holy shit, I can’t remember the last time I slept in this late and without waking up once in the middle of the night.
Usually, I suffer from nightmares, my mind replaying what happened the night I killed Brandon and Brenna, and I’ll wake up several times throughout the night, or my brain will kick into overdrive, and I’ll wake up far too early, starting my day before the sun comes up. But last night, I not only slept all night, but I also had zero nightmares and slept in.
And of course, it happened while I was sleeping in Shane’s arms.
“I know you’re awake,” Shane’s raspy voice says, making me tense up. “But feel free to continue to pretend you’re asleep. I happen to like you snuggled up against me like this. Hell, if you want, I can carry you to my room, and we can continue to sleep …”
“No, you can’t,” Taylor says, making me jump out of Shane’s arms. “We have to get ready to leave soon.”
I sit up and glare at Shane, and he chuckles.
“What?” he asks, sounding all innocent, like he didn’t just worm his way into my … okay, not bed. Couch? Cushion? Whatever it was, he wormed his way into it last night.
Okay, maybe he didn’t so much as worm since I fell asleep first, but …
“You know what?” I hiss. “You should’ve woken me up.”
“Why?” He shrugs, then sits up and stretches, and his shirt rises, exposing the smatter of hair that makes up his happy trail.
Jesus, why does this man have to be so damn good-looking?
“Maybe because it’s highly inappropriate for me to be spending the night with your daughter here.”
“His daughter doesn’t care,” Taylor says with a laugh, reminding me she can hear every word I’m saying. “I’m seventeen, and I know how the birds and the bees work. Besides, you two falling asleep during a movie and sleeping on the couch with your clothes on is hardly bad parenting.”
“See, Sour Patch?” Shane grins. “All good.”
I sigh and roll my eyes, and he grins wider.
“What?” I glare.
“Nothing.” He shakes his head. “You just look cute in the morning with your hair all over the place and a red mark from where your face was smooshed against my chest.”
He runs the back of his finger along my cheekbone, and a shiver racks my body.
“I need to go,” I grumble, scampering off the couch and away from him.