Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 77120 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77120 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
“Touch with intention?” I snort. “You sound like a sex ed pamphlet.”
He chuckles. “Maybe. But don’t knock it till you try it.”
I tilt my head, narrowing my eyes. “Believe it or not, I have tried it.”
“And…?”
“It was great. But a lot of work, honestly. Sex shouldn’t be so hard.” I grin. “No pun intended.”
He returns my grin, stretching back in his chair like he’s settling in for a story I’m not planning to tell.
“I get that,” he says. “Not everyone wants to turn sex into a spiritual pilgrimage. Sometimes you just want the release.”
“Exactly.” I nod. “Sometimes you just want to get off and go to sleep. No chants. No crystals. No synchronized breathing.”
He laughs again, but this time there’s something gentler about it. “Yeah. I figured you were more grounded.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Is that a compliment or an insult?”
“A compliment,” he says, shrugging. “You’re real. Honest. Not trying to impress anyone. I like that.”
I don’t reply.
“You know,” he says, “I thought there might be something here when we first met.”
“Yeah?” I ask, though I already know where this is going.
“Yeah.” He smiles, but it’s wistful now. “I’m pretty sure we’re not each other’s person.”
I nod. “Nope. We’re really not.”
And it’s weirdly comforting, naming it like that. No pressure. No awkward what-ifs. Just two people who crossed paths, shared a few laughs, and knew when to let it go. Or maybe he’s just making himself feel better since he seems to already know I’m hung up on someone else. And screwing someone else.
He raises his glass. “To not forcing what doesn’t fit.”
I clink mine to his. “To knowing when to walk away.”
We drink and lean back in our chairs, staring up at the stars. It’s a beautiful night, and for once, not being the storybook couple feels kind of perfect.
Until Henry’s tall body appears in front of me.
And he doesn’t look happy.
Thirty-Eight
Henry
“Hi, Henry,” Tabitha says with that bright and gorgeous smile on her face.
Why the hell is she so damned happy with her date?
“Enjoying yourself?” Stephen asks.
I’d enjoy kicking your ass into next Tuesday.
“Yeah. Great party. If you don’t mind, I’d like to steal Tabitha for a dance.”
Stephen smiles. And I want to punch his smug nose. “Not at all. Enjoy yourselves.”
I walk around the table and take Tabitha’s hand. It feels so warm and wonderful in mine. I wish it didn’t. I wish so many things. I wish I were whole enough to make a go of it with anyone. Especially with Tabitha.
But she doesn’t pull away.
She lets me lead her onto the dance floor, her palm pressed to mine. The air between us is electric—unsure, hesitant, but charged with something real.
The band starts a new song, slow and low, the bass a heartbeat beneath the melody. It’s another song I’ve never heard before, but the lyrics slide in like a secret.
“Maybe we’re broken, maybe we bend,
But something in you makes me want to try again…”
I place my hand at the small of her back. She fits there too easily, too perfectly, and I feel the flicker of something I haven’t let myself feel in a long time.
Hope.
Not the loud, flashy kind. Just a quiet glimmer.
She rests her cheek against my shoulder.
We don’t speak. We just sway.
And in this moment, there’s no past. No wreckage. No baggage. Just the soft press of her body against mine, the steady rhythm of a song that feels like it was written just for us.
Emotion is coiling in my belly.
I can’t be falling for her.
Not now.
Not when I’m a fucking mess.
Aunt Melanie is here. Hell, my whole family is here.
And they’re watching me. Mom and Dad are probably cheering inside as they see me come back to normal.
The thing is… I’m not back to normal.
Yes, everything about this dance with Tabitha feels normal. Hell, it feels amazing.
I finally see a light at the end of the tunnel, but I’m still messed up inside.
Of course, messed-up men still get hard-ons for women they’re wildly attracted to, and I’m no exception.
I push into her belly, and she looks up at me, her eyes wide.
Seriously? She’s surprised? She knows the effect she has on me. Maybe she just didn’t expect it at a wedding with hundreds of guests surrounding us, watching our every move.
I will my cock to go down. I’m sort of successful. At least to the point that when the song ends, I don’t wish for a book.
I get ready to dance with Tabitha again, this time to a faster tune, when Nora grabs my arm. “Cutting in!” she says. Then to Tabitha, “You don’t mind, do you?”
Tabitha tilts her head. God, she’s beautiful. I can still see the remnants of her flushed cheeks from when we fucked earlier.
She pastes on a smile. “Of course not. Be my guest.” Then she turns and leaves the dance floor.