Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 52440 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 262(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52440 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 262(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
"Are you ready for your flight tomorrow morning?" I ask Zoya, ignoring thoughts of Teo.
She groans, flopping over on her back. "You mean, am I ready to go back to school? Never. I can't freaking wait to finish this year."
"Don't rush it. Paying bills is lame."
"Seriously?" She pops up from the bed, throwing her arms out wide as she dances around in a circle. "You live in a freaking castle, make millions, and you're complaining about bills?"
"Yeah, that is kind of dumb, huh?"
"Uh, yeah!"
I laugh, tossing a pillow at her.
She catches it, smirking at me.
"You know who else lives in a castle and has millions?" I waggle my brows at her. "Jareth."
"Nope!" she shouts, throwing the pillow at me to cover her ears with her hands. "I can't hear you!"
"He's hot!" I yell as she races toward the bedroom door. "And he has a thing for you."
"I'm going to bed!"
"Dream about him!" I shout after her.
"I hate you."
"I bet he's dreaming about you!"
"Good! I hope he is." Her wicked laughter floats back to me, making me smile. God, I'm going to miss her after she flies out tomorrow. This house is way too big for just me. I'm not sure why I bought it. It's beautiful, sure. But it doesn't really feel like me.
Maybe that's why I put in an offer. I wanted something different, something that didn't feel like the same old Nadia. This isn't that. It's more house than a girl from Tennessee will ever need.
I roll from the bed to go shower.
As hot water sluices over me, Teo rushes back to the forefront of my mind. I didn't tell Zoya that he made me come today. That little secret I intend to keep to myself. I probably shouldn't have let it happen, but I'm not sure I regret it, either.
Does he really dream about me every night like he said?
God knows, he's always the one getting me off in my dreams. It's always his hands, his mouth, his cock I think about when I touch myself. Even when he shouldn't be, he's my fantasy.
I slip my hand down my body, remembering the way he touched me today. The possessive edge to his kisses. The weight of his body pressing me against the wall.
It's always you on my cock. You, letting me taste that perfect pussy.
My thumb rolls over my clit, a whimper climbing up my throat. God, I shouldn't want him the way I do. He shouldn't make me ache the way he does. But it's always been him. I learned desire staring into his eyes. I tasted it on his tongue for the first time. And he shattered me with it today.
"Teo," I moan, an orgasm rolling through me. I work myself through it, trembling. And then I groan, plunging my head under the water as if that'll clear him from it. Spoiler alert: it doesn't.
When I climb from the shower ten minutes later, his piercing blue eyes still hang front and center in my mind, watching me from the deepest recesses, as if he carved out some new place in my soul today and made it his own.
My phone buzzes while I'm combing my hair. I scoop it up, my heart thudding unevenly against my ribcage when I see his name on the display.
Zoya was right today. He does still have his old number.
Teo: How many songs are about me, butterfly?
I read his message, contemplating how to respond. The truth is that most of them are about him. I have a lifetime of memories of him. He's indelibly stamped into the fabric of my life, into every cell of me. When I write, he pours out of me whether I want him to or not.
Me: How many fights were about me?
I don't really expect a response, but it comes almost immediately.
Teo: Most of them.
I blink in shock, but he isn't finished.
Teo: I told Greg Aldersgate about you when we were roommates. He attacked his girlfriend a couple of years later, and I handled it. He never forgave me. He brings you up to taunt me.
Me: He isn't the only one you get into fights with.
Teo: He isn't the only one who knows about you, butterfly. Most of them do. They say stupid shit to try to get me to react.
My hands shake as I try to process his answer.
Teo: How many songs?
Me: Most of them.
Teo: Do you hate me?
Me: I never hated you, Teo. I just…don't know how to forgive you.
Not even five seconds later, my phone rings. I swipe to answer, putting it up to my ear.
"Which part keeps breaking your heart, butterfly?" he rasps, his voice raw. "I can't fix it if you don't tell me what you're still bleeding over."
"The accident," I whisper.
He groans, a broken sound that hurts to hear. "You blame me for it."