Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 132951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
I walk down the hall, take the first right, and step inside the library through the other entrance. The lights are dim, so it takes several seconds for my eyes to adjust. She’s curled up on the couch in the glass dome, a blanket covering her legs, pillow behind her head, and a book lying open on her chest. Her glasses are askew. I carefully remove the book, tucking the bookmark in before I close it and set it on the side table, then I remove her glasses, wiping away the fingerprints before I gently fold the arms. Those I slip into the breast pocket of my polo.
I don’t wake her. Not yet. I want this moment, where I’m not the person tying her to a life she doesn’t want but is willing to accept so she can keep the things and people she values most. What would it feel like to be loved like that by her?
That will never happen.
“Mildred?” I stroke her cheek.
She doesn’t shy away from the touch. Instead she turns toward my fingers, as if the contact is welcome. Maybe we’re similar in that respect. Most of the time I feel starved for contact. I fear it and crave it. That kiss during our engagement photos plays on an endless loop. The warmth of her lips, the softness of her body against mine.
“I kissed you back.”
“Dred.” I understand the nickname to be ironic now, because the only thing I dread these days is her deciding to leave. It doesn’t sound right coming out of my mouth.
Her eyes flutter open. She feels for her glasses.
“I have them right here.”
She stretches like a cat and hums. “I fell asleep.”
“You did. In the library.”
“I do almost every night,” she murmurs and rolls on her side, toward me, pressing her cheek into her pillow. “I like being surrounded by stories.”
“Your bed is probably more comfortable.”
“It is.”
I brush a tendril of hair away from her face. I shouldn’t, but she’s unguarded, not quite awake enough to tell me to fuck off and keep my hands to myself.
She raises a hand, curving it around mine. Holding on to it. Her eyes are closed again, but the hint of a smile plays on her lips.
“Then why not read in your bed?”
“It’s too easy to get used to nice things,” she says.
Why does everything she says make me wish I was a different person? “You can take the bed with you when you go back to your own life.”
“It won’t fit in my apartment.” She relaxes again, sleep trying to reclaim her.
She’ll stay here all night, if I let her.
I tuck one arm under her knees and slide the other behind her back, carefully lifting her into my arms.
“What are you doing?” She nuzzles into my neck, nose pressing against my collarbone.
“Putting you to bed.”
“I was fine on the couch.” Her hand settles on my chest.
“A couch is not a bed.” She feels good in my arms. Like she belongs there. Like she should be mine.
I carry her through the library, using the secret entrance to her bedroom, and tuck her in, setting her glasses on the nightstand.
She blinks up at me in the hazy darkness. “Isn’t it so much nicer when you’re not hating yourself?”
“Who said I stopped hating myself?”
Mildred presses her hand to my cheek. “You came to find me.”
I let my eyes slide closed, absorbing the warmth of her touch. How would it feel to curl my body around hers and hold her all night? I could keep her safe from the nightmares. I could feel something other than longing.
“Now’s when you kiss me on the forehead and say good night, Connor.”
“Did you read that in a book?”
“Maybe.” She tips her chin up.
I bend and press my lips to her forehead, her temple, and her cheek. The itch under my skin ceases. The yearning quells, just for a moment. “’Night, Mildred.”
CHAPTER 18
DRED
Dred
Rix, how in the world did you manage to go to school full time, work part time for an accounting firm, make meals for half the Terror, and still plan a wedding without having a nervous breakdown?
Rix
I had Essie.
Essie
And dick. She also had lots of dick.
Dred
Ah, that’s clearly what’s missing from my equation.
Hemi
I guess this means you haven’t jumped on that yet.
Dred
It would certainly complicate this already complicated relationship.
Hammer
But it could also be a perk!
Essie
I bet he’s a demon in the sheets. The quiet, reserved ones always are.
Hammer
Same with the grumpy ones.
Dred
I may or may not have already wondered these things.
Rix
I vote you find out, for research purposes.
Essie
You just want one of us to be as freaky as you.
Hemi
I’m pretty sure Dallas and I could give you a run for your money.
Lexi
Dred
Rub salt in the wound, why don’t you? I’m very grateful for my ability to orgasm without even touching myself.