Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 102708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
She felt right.
“You feel good in my arms, Kitty. How do you make a black dress look this good?”
She set her hand on my chest. “I think you’ve given this a little too much thought.”
“I don’t think I’ve given it enough.”
I didn’t expect to feel the surge of emotions again so quickly, but I should have known better. If our relationship thus far had been any indication, it would be filled with unexpected feelings in one way or another.
I felt as if these past few months proved how much I’d be willing to lose for her. I kept it to myself, leaving distance between us. I was trying to be the better brother, but between her little gestures I’d catch when she didn’t know I was looking or how her wardrobe went from Wednesday Addams to Morticia, I was losing my restraint.
Maybe it was my brothers’ effect on her, or maybe, just maybe, it was mine. In the past year, she’d done a complete one-eighty. I guess you could say she blossomed in front of our eyes or some shit. Even her body flourished, leading me to think she hadn’t been eating before. She was curvy in all the right places now, and I found it hard to ignore.
It wasn’t like my brother had officially claimed her. They weren’t exclusive. If anything, they were possibly dating. I didn’t know what the hell he was waiting for. We were nothing alike. If she were mine, everyone would know it, and I wouldn’t be beating around the bush like he was. I mean, how many nights could she sleep in his bed, and his ass was still sleeping on the couch.
My brother was either a pussy or a saint.
He’d like to say the latter, while the former was a much more accurate description for me.
Plus, I hated having to keep her at arm’s length. She was literally driving me to get fucked up, which was never my MO. My state of mind at that moment, being there with her, in this compromising position where it was just her and me, seemed to be our biggest problem.
We were made of moments like these, but nothing past them.
Blaming it on the drugs and alcohol was the only excuse I had. Though I couldn’t ignore that I was the first guy she talked to after years of choosing silence.
It plagued me.
Kept me up at night.
Those nights, I’d play for her…
Fully aware she was there, hand on the wall, listening intently as if it were a deep, dark secret we shared.
It was personal.
Intimate.
Ours.
Julius didn’t play music for her like I did—at least I never heard him—which was interesting, considering every time we played with her in front of a crowd, it was obvious Julius played for no one but her.
The way I fought the longing to explore whatever was happening between us was becoming a daily occurrence. Hence, why I wasn’t home or around her unless she was tutoring me. I thought it’d made things easier. I was dead wrong. The ache for her only became stronger.
More demanding.
A tide that kept dragging me.
Is it to the shore or the depths of the ocean? Why do they feel the same way about me?
This was completely uncharted territory for me.
I couldn’t help but think about my future.
Our future.
Wondering if this kind of future was even in the cards for me.
For us.
I didn’t have too much time to dwell on it before I impulsively admitted, “I’ve missed you.”
Lust was a very funny thing.
The desire.
The attraction.
It was all these chemicals that released the same endorphins, similar to the ones we were experiencing with each other right now.
And still…
It all felt real.
We felt so real.
Drugs and alcohol always made you lose your inhibitions. They just went hand in hand. Unable to resist the temptation that was this girl, I held her face between my hands.
I was thinking all sorts of things.
Good.
Bad.
Naughty.
Feeling all sorts of emotions I had no business entertaining.
“What are you doing here, Kitty?”
“What do you mean?”
“Why are you here? What are you running from?”
“Currently.” She hesitated, whispering, “It should be you.”
I had to know, so I demanded, “Tell me the truth. What happened that led you into that train station that night?”
“Kraven…”
“Does Julius know?”
She shook her head.
“You haven’t told him?”
She shook her head again.
“Why not?”
“Because I’m scared.”
“Of what?”
“Of how he’ll look at me after he knows the truth.”
I allowed her confession to register while holding her gaze.
“And what truth is that?” I questioned once it did.
Silence.
“Isla,” I stressed, down to my last bit of patience when I didn’t have any to begin with. “I need you to trust me.”
Before I could consider the consequences, the future, the fire I’d spark and blow up with one match, I pulled her lips to mine, and she sucked in a breath when I softly pecked her mouth for a second.