Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 54710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
She leads me into her bedroom, which is on the main level. The queen bed is made up with a colorful quilt and pillows, the walls painted pale blue. A gold floor lamp with a shade made of white feathers glows from a corner of the room, providing the only light.
In another corner, a vintage record player is playing an Etta James album.
Jules closes the door behind us and gets on the bed, sitting down. She pulls her legs up to her chest, looking thoughtful.
I take my coat off, setting it on a dark-green velvet chair with a sweater thrown on it.
“I’ve been worried about you,” I say.
Her sad smile returns. “Will you lie with me?”
“Sure.”
I kick off my shoes and get onto her bed. She curls into me like I’ve grown used to. The warm, clean scent of her perfume mixes with a coconut scent. Must be her body wash.
“Tell me about your day,” she says softly, draping her arm across my chest.
“It was good. The chef made more food than a dozen people could’ve eaten. We played games. I dominated at Battleship.
“Battleship?” She sounds amused. “I’ve never played that one.”
“I’ll teach you sometime. If you don’t mind losing.” I kiss the top of her head. “How was your day, beautiful?”
She hooks her leg over my legs, sighing softly. “I don’t want you to feel sorry for me.”
“Okay.”
Fear lances through me. Is she sick? Seriously sick?
“I have one of the worst mothers who ever mothered. Blair and I were so happy to get away from her. She’s an addict and an alcoholic and nothing ever mattered as much as the next fix and the next man she was going to sink her claws into.”
I smooth a hand over her hair, stunned by what she’s saying. She’s the brightest, most grounded twenty-nine-year-old I’ve ever known. The way she values family, I assumed she came from a strong, close-knit one.
“We haven’t seen the demon who birthed us in a really long time. Coop was a baby the last time she came crawling. When she said she needed help, I gave her five hundred bucks just to go away. She knocked on my door again today. I don’t know how she found our address; we’re pretty fanatical about using our PO box for everything.”
“I’m so sorry.”
I don’t know what else to say. If I’d been here, she never would have had to deal with that, because I would’ve handled it. But we both have our own families and lives. Our relationship is a secret—something I have all for myself and never have to explain to anyone.
She sighs heavily. “My therapist told me not to give her anything when she comes back, so I didn’t. She wanted to stay here.”
“Did she give you trouble when you said no?”
“Nothing she hasn’t done before. I wanted to tell you why I’m in this mood, but let’s not talk about it anymore. Just hold me and tell me I’m pretty.”
I tighten my hold on her and kiss her forehead. “Pretty’s not enough. No matter what’s going on around you, you just ... shine. All the time. Hearing your laugh makes my day better. No one but you could have convinced me to wear a face mask.”
She laughs lightly. “And your skin thanks you for it.”
When I’m staying in her hotel room on the road, she sometimes wants me to put on a face mask with her before we go to sleep. I was reluctant, but it seemed to mean a lot to her. And honestly, my face does feel great after.
“I missed you today,” she says softly.
“I missed you, too.”
“Did you?”
“Of course.”
“Would you still want me if all my hair fell out?”
I furrow my brow. “Uh ... why are you asking?”
“Just answer the question.”
“Could you maybe wear a hat?”
She lifts her face and leans up on an elbow to meet my eyes, looking stern. “Noel.”
“I’m joking. Of course I’d still want you.”
“What if I had the head of a Viking warrior?”
I laugh, brushing her hair away from her face. “I don’t know, babe. You’ve got a gorgeous face.”
“Well, it would be through no fault of my own. Like, I’d just wake up one day and have the head of a Viking warrior, with a braided beard and a metal helmet thing. Would you still want me?”
“Hm. What about your voice? Would you do Viking war cries in a deep manly voice when I’m fucking you?”
Her eyes light playfully. “No. I’d still have my voice. But like bad teeth and dirty hair. Through no fault of my own.”
“I’d still want you. With all the lights off, though.”
“What if I was the Little Mermaid? I couldn’t walk and I’d have no vag.”
“You’d have a mouth, though?”
“Yep. And a clamshell bra.”
“Hell yeah.”
She grins playfully. “Which one would you choose—Viking head and I still have my own body, or Little Mermaid and no vag?”