Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 104657 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 523(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104657 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 523(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
“Like what?”
“Like you talk to your patients.”
“You’ve never observed me talking to my patients, so how would you know how I talk to them?”
“You sound clinical when you talk, saying things like we should start there.”
“Fine. I kissed you because you’re sexy. I kissed you for the same reason you kiss women you meet at a bar.”
“I kiss women I meet at a bar because I want to fuck them.” I drink more beer.
“Well, there you go.” She holds her hands out, palms up.
“There I go?”
“I kissed you because I want to have sex with you.”
I choke on the lager. “We’re”—I cough more—“not having sex.”
“I didn’t say we were. I said it’s why I kissed you. Had your dad not called, I think we would have had sex on the sofa in my office or on the desk.”
I can’t stop coughing. It’s no longer the beer; it’s the words that slide to the tip of my tongue, only to be shoved back down my throat every time she speaks. “We would not have,” I squeak, shaking my head.
“Why do you say that?”
“Because I have self-control.”
“You had no self-control. How many times did your dad try calling before you answered?”
“Four. And that just proves my point. I could have answered on the first ring, but I had self-control, so I waited until the fourth time he called.”
Her hazel eyes light up.
“I’m kidding.” I toss her a cocky grin and drop my empty bottle into the bin. “You’re so gullible.”
She frowns. “I’m the opposite of gullible. Everything I do requires a healthy amount of skepticism.”
“Except for me,” I say, heading up the stairs. “You’d do me without hesitation.” I feel victorious, even though there is nothing I need upstairs other than an excuse to make a dramatic exit from the living room with the last word in my wake.
When I hear the back door shut, I change into sweats and a T-shirt to make my unnecessary trip upstairs worthwhile, and then I head downstairs to game. Barely ten minutes into it, the door opens, and Everleigh shuffles her bare feet across the wood floor. I make a lightning-fast glance in her direction before refocusing on the game.
She opens a kitchen cabinet. “What are you playing?”
“GTA.”
“Want to play with me?” she asks, opening a bag of popcorn.
“Would you stop saying that? Pervert. I can’t believe people trust you with their mental health.” I get sniped and then flop back onto the sofa, discarding the controller beside me.
“I know. Every day I deal with impostor syndrome.” She sits next to me, tilting the bag of popcorn toward me.
I fish out a handful and throw it into my mouth. “You never told me why Jamie had dinner with you,” I mumble before swallowing.
“Because I’m a charming person, and being in my company is a privilege. Wouldn’t you agree?” She steals my controller and brings up Fortnite.
“I would not. You’re annoying, like the little sister I already have.” I pluck the controller from her hand, and she dives for it while I hold it above my head just out of her reach.
“Why do you have to be such a child?” She jumps for the controller, sending the popcorn bag onto the floor and her tits into my face.
I shove it behind me, so she lowers to her knees on the sofa beside me and stabs her hand behind my back, which puts her face in front of mine.
“Give it to me,” she says, nose inches from mine.
“Are we still talking about the controller?” I make the mistake of staring at her mouth, and now all I want to do is kiss it.
“Dirty old man,” she says with a big grin.
“You have to knock off this ‘old man’ shit,” I say.
God, she smells good. Whatever she uses that makes her smell like flowers, she must have reapplied it before returning minutes ago. She’s baiting me again.
“I’m not having sex with you,” I say.
“I know.”
If she knows, why doesn’t she move? Why don’t I?
“But there’s a lot we can do that’s not sex.” She brushes her nose against mine. “Remember?”
Of course, I remember all the things we did that weren’t sex.
“It’s against house rules,” I whisper, moving my head a fraction so our lips brush like our noses.
“I won’t tell if you don’t.” She pecks at my bottom lip.
“Everleigh,” I warn, but not without lifting my chin so she either has to back away or kiss me.
She chooses the latter. And fuck my pathetic lack of control for kissing her for the second time in one day. Her hand disappears from my back and moves to my face, framing it while she opens her mouth to let my tongue sweep inside it.
I grip her waist as she throws her leg over my lap to straddle me. What are we doing? This won’t end well, and that’s our destiny.