Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 78155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Luca used his knife and fork to slice his into pieces, the egg yolk dripping over the rest of the plate. But he scooped the bites into his mouth quickly, elbows on the table, solely focused on the food and not me. It was as if he hadn’t eaten in days.
Transfixed, I watched him eat and only took a few bites myself because I’d never seen him eat before. “Hungry?” I teased.
“I lifted before I headed over.”
Lifted a car? A tree trunk?
He crossed his arms over his chest and sank back in the chair, watching me eat instead.
“I’m a bit slower than you.”
“I’m in no rush.” He turned and made eye contact with the waiter, who came over a second later. “I’ll take another.”
“Espresso?”
“Galette.”
The waiter left to put the order in.
I cut into my crepe and watched more of the yolk drift across the plate. “Wish I could eat like that.”
“Start lifting and you can.”
“Working out isn’t really my thang, so…”
“Really?” he asked, one eyebrow raised. “You just look like that?”
“Like what?”
His stare hardened on my face.
He didn’t answer, and I continued to eat, feeling self-conscious about shoveling food into my mouth while he stared. He reached for his espresso and finished it. Then he continued to stare as if I was talking when I was just eating and eating and eating. His second galette was eventually delivered, and as with the first, he cut it into pieces and inhaled it like he was still starving. He finished his second before I finished my first.
Then he blurted out a question. “Are you seeing anyone?”
“What?” I asked blankly.
He didn’t repeat the question.
“Uh, no. Last thing on my mind, honestly.” Because I was too busy finding an apartment. Finding a job. Putting my life back together. Feeling the grief for the first time because it was the only chance I’d had the opportunity to truly feel it.
And because I was touching myself to the memory of the man across from me.
I didn’t ask him the same question in return, not wanting to hear his answer. He probably wouldn’t give details, but I still didn’t want to hear any of it.
The waiter came over with the tab and handed it to Luca.
Luca pulled out his wallet and put the cash on top.
I reached for my wallet to split it.
“Don’t do that.”
I froze at his tone and looked up at him.
He still looked mad.
“And don’t ever do that again.”
Again…?
14
ALIÉNOR
He walked me into the lobby and up the stairs to my apartment.
He didn’t seem like the kind of man to walk a woman to her door. But he also didn’t seem like the kind of man to text just to check in. Or take her out to eat and yell at her when she tried to pay her share.
I wasn’t sure if he just wanted to walk me to the door…or if he expected to come inside? To avoid the awkwardness, I unlocked the door right when I reached it and walked inside to put my purse on the counter.
That way, it would be his decision to cross the threshold or stay in the hallway.
I took off my coat and hung it on one of the hooks drilled into the wall. That was when I heard the door click shut and then the sound of his heavy boots as he moved behind me.
My heart immediately picked up in speed, like the gas was floored and the road ahead was empty. I turned around to face him again and gave a slight jolt because he was directly in front of me, already crowding me, going in for the kill.
The moment his arm circled my waist, I felt myself float.
He pulled me into him as he slid his hand into my hair, cradling my face to accept his kiss. His mouth commanded mine in a soft kiss, the kindling between a match and the strike strip. He started off slow, feeling my lips like an artist about to carve a sculpture into their likeness. His fingers cupped the back of my neck, and he held me so gently but with so much affection at the same time.
The abstinence of two weeks made the memory more potent. Made me realize it was as good as I remembered it. That I hadn’t inflated it in my head when I touched myself between the sheets and pretended he was there. I’d fucked him for a place to live, but that had just been an excuse to have him, so my heart wouldn’t attach to something that would never last. My fingers dug into his hair, and I breathed into his mouth, swept off the floor by the kiss that could make me come on its own.
My hands slipped underneath his shirt, and I tugged it up to get it off. He did the rest of the work because he was so much taller than me that getting his shirt off him would be impossible on my own. It came free, and he dropped it on the hardwood floor.