Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 164263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 821(@200wpm)___ 657(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 821(@200wpm)___ 657(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
“Oh no, is she okay?”
“Honestly. I don’t know how these fucking nurses do this job full-time. It’s exhausting.”
“I know, right. So can you work over there or….”
“Yeah I can, probably won’t but I could if I wanted to. How’s things going for you?”
“Great.” I beam, I glance up guiltily through the glass window in the door at Philippe sitting on the couch in the store with his book. “Oh my god, things are going so well with you know who?” I say with a lowered voice.
“Really?” He says. “How so?”
“Well, he’s stayed at my place every night now and he sent me a huge bunch of red roses and honestly…I feel like we’re falling in love.”
“Wooow, woo, woo, slow down, old girl.”
“I know it’s very early.” I roll my eyes, feeling foolish. “But it just feels different, you know?”
“I hope it is love, but be prepared for finding out that it might not be.”
“I know.” I shrug. “Thank you for checking in, it feels like you’re the only one who pulls me back to reality about him.”
“Have you formally met any of his friends yet?”
“Not yet. We haven’t even been to his place yet.” I frown as I come to that realization. “Which is weird, now I think about it.”
“He’s probably just wanting to come to yours while you get into a rhythm.”
“Maybe.”
“I have a date tonight,” he tells me.
“You do?” I smile. “A job or a date?”
“Like a date date. A real date.”
“Does she know what you do?”
“No, and to be honest, I’m a bit nervous about it.”
“Why?”
“I haven’t been on a real date for years, what the hell do you even do?”
I giggle. “Have sex for free, I’m assuming.”
“Fuck, my life….”
I glance up to see that the store is crowded with people. “I’ve got to go, the shop is swamped.”
“Okay.”
“Good luck tonight.”
“Thanks.”
“Call me tomorrow and let me know how it goes.” I smile.
He chuckles. “Yeah, okay.”
“Bye.” I hang up and smile, Thomas has a real date…. For free.
The regulated sound of Edward breathing is a peaceful sound.
I lie on my side propped up on my elbow as I watch him sleep in the semi-dark room.
Naked, his beautiful olive skin is a stark contrast to the white bed linen that’s pooled around his waist. His hands are up behind his head, his large biceps demand my attention as my eyes linger over every inch of him.
I’ve never known a man like this, so masculine that his body calls to mine on a primal level. It’s like the testosterone pumping through his veins has become my very own brand of heroin. An addiction to flesh is not something I’ve ever battled before.
The more I crave him, the more I physically have him, the more I need him.
Whenever he’s near, I’m in this semi-aroused state at all times as if our bodies are talking to each other. Speaking a language that only they understand.
Its early, 6 a.m., and I could watch him sleep all day but I won’t, I’ll pretend I’m not totally smitten and play it cool. I get up to go to the bathroom and his phone lights up on the bedside table and I pick it up and look at it.
Hermione
Text Message.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
ALORA
What?
Why is she still texting him?
Jealousy runs through me and I quietly put his phone back down, grab my robe and make my way downstairs.
The coffee machine percolates as a million scenarios run through my mind, have they spoken? Do they still see each other? I know she meant a lot to him because he’s hell-bent on not letting her find out about us…maybe I’m a secret because he’s still with her?
Stop it.
I make my coffee and head out into my back garden; I need to stop being insecure.
This isn’t who I am.
I’m not even going to ask him about it, I already know they’re still friends and I want to respect that.
I turn on the hose and call my favorite person in the world. “Hello, my darling,” he answers.
“Hi, Dad.” I smile, and suddenly the world is right again.
Two weeks of loving Edward Prescott….
He’s the sky, the moon, and all the stars in the night sky, I worship the air that he breathes.
We walk through the markets in town, the morning sun is shining and my arm is linked through his. He’s wearing jeans and a T-shirt with a baseball cap and sunglasses, his usual disguise. We haven’t been to his place yet because he seems to have unofficially moved into mine. On the weekend we pottered around my neighborhood. Dinners in small intimate restaurants, walks at sunrise and drinks at sunset in my garden.
We were normal, more normal than I could have ever dreamed.
I never imagined that it could be like this. So in tune with each other that it’s like he’s an extension of me.