Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 89666 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89666 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
It was late, but not ridiculously so. If I left now, I wouldn’t be in danger of falling asleep on my way home.
“I need to get going,” I mumbled, still trying to find the energy to get my ass up.
Sebastian’s arm tightened on my waist to the point of dragging me across the bed so that I was flush with his body from head to toe. “No,” Sebastian growled into my hair.
My body shook with silent laughter. “I have to go. It’s late.”
“You don’t have to go. You can sleep right here. There’s plenty of room. I’ll even let you have your own side of the bed…for part of the night.”
“So generous,” I teased. And it was tempting. His bed was ridiculously comfortable, the right balance of soft and firm. Not to mention, staying would mean more amazing sex. “I can’t. I need to get up early tomorrow.”
“Nope. Tomorrow’s Saturday. I checked. You can sleep in. Carol will make you another delicious breakfast. I haven’t even shown you my shower yet. It has four showerheads. We can shower at the same time, and I’ll wash your back.”
Evil. This man was pure temptation.
“Can I take a rain check? I was planning to drive down to see Ronnie tomorrow, and his hospital is near Louisville.” It wasn’t a long drive. Just a little more than an hour for me, but sometimes seeing Ronnie meant waiting for a few hours to make sure he was medicated properly and in a good head space for visitors. Plus, I thought I’d pop in to check on my mom after seeing Ronnie. At best, it was going to be an exhausting day. It was better to start early so I could spend the rest of the evening recovering.
“Of course. No need for a rain check.” Sebastian pressed kisses along the nape of my neck and across my shoulder. Each one stole away some of the tension that had entered my body at the thought of my plans for tomorrow. “This spot is reserved for you permanently. Anytime you want to sleep right here—day or night, weekday or weekend—it’s yours.”
“That sounds really nice.”
“Would you like me to go with you tomorrow? Not to meet your brother. To be there. Maybe drive if you need a break.”
I squeezed my eyes shut against the sudden, unexpected sting of tears. My throat tightened and for several seconds, I could only lie there, soaking in the warmth of his offer. I shook my head and swallowed so I could speak. “No, it’s okay.”
I didn’t deserve Sebastian Courtland. There probably wasn’t anyone in the world who did. Even if he was simply on loan to me for a short time, I was going to enjoy this warmth and support while I could.
12
BYRON GRAHAM
I arrived at the Holy Mother treatment facility at ten a.m. on Saturday, exactly when I wanted to. It was just after breakfast and late enough for Ronnie’s morning meds to have kicked in properly. After snagging the box of cookies from the front passenger seat of my car, I strolled into the building that resembled pretty much every hospital I’d ever visited in my life—off-white walls, fake plants, pastel landscapes, and durable neutral-colored tile.
With practiced ease, I strolled up to the reception desk and signed in. Jenny smiled and greeted me by name, not even bothering to look at the driver’s license I’d pulled out for her. The older volunteer was a regular and knew me from my many visits over the years. She wrapped the bright-green paper visitor band around my wrist while I broke the seal on the cookies. They were just a box of iced sugar cookies made by a local bakery that I’d picked up at the grocery this morning. Each time I came, I tried to bring something for the nursing staff on Ronnie’s floor to show my appreciation for all their hard work.
“It’s like you know exactly when I need a little treat for my day,” Jenny giggled as she selected a cookie with bright-yellow icing and a smiley face.
“I think we can all use a treat every day,” I murmured as I closed the box.
From the reception area, it was a short walk to the elevators and then a quick ride up to the third floor. As the doors closed, my heart rate picked up and my stomach knotted. I’d been coming to visit Ronnie for as long as he’d lived here, for roughly four years, and the same old anxieties continued to creep in. Most of the time, I was here alone. Mom accompanied me a few times a year, even though I called her the day before each trip to give her a heads-up that I’d be leaving for my next visit. She rarely returned my calls.
It was horrible of me to think about it, but it hurt them both each time she came here. Her worst benders were always after a visit to see Ronnie, and my brother always had bad days following her visits. Maybe too many reminders of what should have been.