Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 88212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Just as I’m pulling them from the oven, the door to his apartment opens. I slide the pan onto the counter and pull off the mitt as Miles comes over.
“This is nice to come home to.”
“Next time I’ll bake naked, in nothing but an apron.”
“Only do that when I’m here to see it.” His arms wrap around my waist, Miles pulling me close and resting his head on my shoulder.
“How did it go?” I ask.
“It was hard. And really sad. Dad shared some things I didn’t know—she left a diary and had been seeing a therapist. She was trying to get better, but she didn’t want us to know. Why didn’t she want us to know?”
“I’m sorry. I wish I had the answers. I think…I think sometimes we try to protect the people we love, and we think we’re doing it the right way, but we’re not.” It’s what my mom tried to do—she tried to protect me from the truth about my dad—and Miles’s mom tried to protect her family from her pain too. This is why it’s important to get to a place where we can all be more open with each other, share what we’re feeling and lean on each other. Miles and I will start that change.
“Yeah. I’d like to believe that. It’s just…” He stops himself. Given how long he’s blamed himself, I imagine that’s not a switch he can turn off.
I nod, rub my cheek against his, hoping the contact helps.
He shakes his head. “It was good to talk to my dad, though. He didn’t understand at first the impact of what he’d done, how it left me feeling like a monster.”
I pull back so I can look at him. It kills me that he sees himself that way. “You’re not a monster. You love so hard and care so much. You feel everything. Monsters don’t feel so big, the way you do.”
He nods, his eyes red, and I can tell he’d been crying. “Thank you. The more we spoke, the less I felt that way. We both needed this. After our talk about Mom, he actually let me explain what happened with the fire. Without trying to brush it off or act like everything was fine. And he believed me.” He nearly chokes on the words, tears glistening in his eyes. He doesn’t try to hide them from me, just bares it all, more vulnerable than I could’ve ever imagined from our early interactions. “Now I hope we can start dealing with things we’ve pretended didn’t exist for too long. Feels like we’re in a better place, or at least on the path to getting to a better place.”
“That’s good.” I run my hands up and down his back.
“Know how you said you’re going to start seeing a therapist?”
My heart races, hoping this is going the direction I’m thinking it is. “Yeah.”
“I need to do that too, see this counselor I met up with a while ago, only doing that regularly now.”
“You saw someone?”
It’s the first time I’ve ever seen Miles Tanner’s cheeks turn pink. “When I was planning our date. I needed someone to talk to about it.”
This man. This adorable, wild, unique man. He went to a therapist to talk about taking me on a date, and I know it’s because he wanted to make it special. “That’s…very sweet. Thank you for doing that for me, though you didn’t have to. You could have taken me to McDonald’s, and I would have enjoyed our date.”
“I’ll remember that for next time,” he jokes.
I press my back against the counter and pull him close. “Being serious, though, I’m proud of you for making the decision to start seeing a therapist. It’s not always an easy thing to do.”
“No, it’s not. But it’s important.” He looks over my shoulder. “Your cookies look better than mine. Less black and crusty around the edges.”
“Last time wasn’t your fault. I wooed you with my ass.”
He laughs, then drops his forehead against mine. “Thank you for being here for me. Today was easier because I knew I had you in my corner.”
“I’ll always be in your corner. I think you made me a stalker too.”
“So yeah, I should probably go get that restraining order now.” He pretends to pull away but doesn’t go far. I love that we can joke around this way, even after what we’ve been through. “I love you, Dax.”
“I love you too.” I take Miles’s mouth, slip my tongue inside, tasting and exploring. I kiss the salty tears from his lips, feel him harden against my length as we rut together, the scent of chocolate-chip cookies surrounding us.
“Do you know what always helps me feel better?” Miles asks.
“Sugar?” I tease.
“Orgasms.”
“I mean, they’re totally one of my favorite things too. Plus, I like to have sweet and salty things together.” I cup his heavy balls.