Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 96292 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96292 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
“Ally easily crashes out. You saved the night. It’s a huge deal.” She steps out of her jeans and shrugs off her shirt.
I take another bite of popcorn.
We need to talk. But now I’m a hero in her eyes. And she’s stripping. Maybe she’s right. We can talk after the orchestra. At this point, what’s twenty-four more hours?
“I know Ally will be a big shot lawyer, and I’m just a girl who rides a bike”—she removes her bra—“but I don’t think she would suggest eating pizza in the car.”
I chuckle. “Do you think I’m interested in Ally?”
She shrugs a shoulder, and I don’t know if she’s genuinely insecure or just messing with me. So I set the bag of popcorn on the floor, then reach for her hand, guiding her to stand between my legs. Her breasts are hidden behind her hair, but I don’t touch anything but her hips as I drop my forehead, resting it over her heart.
Closing my eyes, I commit this feeling to memory.
The warmth of her soft skin. Her silky hair brushing my face. The gentle stroke of her fingers in my hair. I’ve never felt so human. If I focus solely on this moment, I might even allow myself to feel deserving.
“I love you,” she whispers before kissing my head.
Why does she love me? What does she see that I don’t? And is it real?
Chapter Twenty-Four
Flynn
“Why are you here?” I whisper, holding June in my arms just as the sun rises.
“In bed?”
I feather my fingers up and down her arm. “In Minneapolis. Giving bike tours. Your family lives in California. Just seems odd.”
“As odd as being a muse?”
I chuckle. “Not quite, but close.”
“After the abduction, I needed to escape. Find a new normalcy. Search for a sense of safety again. And come to find out, I was looking for you.” She kisses my chest.
“Liar.”
She giggles, sliding her leg between mine. “I’m not lying. Maybe I didn’t know your name or what you looked like. But I absolutely believe life is a journey, and thinking we’re in control is just an illusion our ego thrives on. Tell me you think this—us—we were meant to be.” She tries to tickle my sides.
It doesn’t tickle, but I laugh at her attempt. I’ve never wanted anything more than to believe that June Malone is meant to be with me.
“I think I need to spray some WD-40 on your frame. It squeaks too much,” I say.
“Whose fault is that?” She slides on top of me, grinning as her face hovers over mine.
“The bed frame’s fault. I’ll lube it, then pull it away from the wall. It’s too close.”
“Lube …” she giggles.
“You and your dirty mind. It’s a lubricant. It also protects against rust.”
“Well, this bed is no doubt a little rusty.”
“What does that mean?”
She dips her head and teases my lips. “Nothing.”
“Has it been a while since you’ve had sex?”
She blushes. “No. I had it like … twenty minutes ago. Am I that forgettable?”
“Well, I’m not great with words. I dropped out of school before learning all of them. But I’d say you’re the opposite of forgettable. So unforgettable? Memorable?”
June grins.
“Feel free to share better words,” I say.
She slowly shakes her head. “Your vocabulary is just fine. I don’t need to finish your sentences or speak for you.”
“You like me just how I am?”
“Yes,” she whispers before kissing me.
I tell myself she will feel this way after I tell her about my time in prison, but I don’t totally believe it. Everyone has their limits. If I told her I was a pedophile (I wasn’t), there’s no way she’d shrug and kiss me like it was no big deal.
“What time do you work?” I ask, rolling her onto her back, then kissing a trail down her body.
“One.”
“Perfect.” Half my body hangs off the end of the bed as I settle between her legs. “We have time for a little low-key sex before I run and grab that WD-40.”
She giggles, fingers in my hair. “Low-key. Like lazy?”
“Like”—I kiss her inner thigh just to watch her squirm—“low-key as in you shouldn’t be so loud this time.”
“I’m not loud.”
I grin even though she can’t see me. “Challenge accepted.”
After June goes to work, I get a haircut, then sneak into the Rawlings’ garage and move at top speed to get ready, using the car’s side mirror and window reflections to see how I look. My new jeans and shirt are wrinkled, and they probably need laundering. I tuck in the price tag, but I’m not sure I could return it after this many wears. Then I make dinner reservations and head to June’s apartment.
“Come up,” she says, answering the call when I buzz her.
The door clicks, and I throw it open, sprinting up the stairs. Before my fist hits her door, it opens.
“Jesus …” I whisper as she punches the air from my lungs with her black dress, thin straps tied around her neck. Black high heels that make me weak in the knees. Hair braided. Lips glossed.