Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 88212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88212 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
“That the guy Jaxon’s dating?” Dax asks. “I haven’t met him yet.”
“I didn’t know he was with someone,” Tatum says.
“Yeah…” Keegan drags out, sounding displeased.
“That cool?” I probe.
“Yeah, it’s fine. They just meet up a lot, and we don’t get to hang.”
Ah, makes sense. I was probably reading too much into his initial reaction. I’d be pissed if Tatum and Caleb were spending less time with me too.
“He just usually hooks up with people, and then that’s it,” Keegan says. “This guy, he’s been on a few dates with, if I can even call them dates. It’s not like anything will happen. Or it might. I don’t know. It doesn’t matter if it does.” He blurts that last part out as if realizing how weird it sounds that he’s hung up on who his friend is hooking up with.
Dax shoots me a look. He’s better at reading people than me, so maybe there really is something there after all.
Dax turns his attention to Keegan. “It’s sweet you care about your buddy spending less time with you. Don’t worry. Once he gets out of the honeymoon period, he’ll spend more time with you again.”
Keegan nods, biting on the edge of his Solo cup.
Yeah, Dax is definitely picking up on something.
“Tell me when that honeymoon period is gonna end for you two,” Tatum says, glaring at us.
“Shut your filthy mouth,” I tease, running my hand through his hair.
“You can pull on it a little, if you want.”
“The only hair he’s pulling on is mine,” Dax reminds him, staking his claim.
Tatum sighs. “I just want you both to remember how much fun this could have been.”
“Oh God, now I know how I used to sound,” Dax says, laughing.
“My little slut,” I say, which makes him beam, and I take another kiss, earning a groan from Tatum.
We finish up at the party, and Leo offers to act as DD and take us back to my place, which will frankly be a lot quieter than trying to get some sleep at the frat. As we reach the hall to my apartment, Dax stumbles. He didn’t have that much to drink, but enough that he might be slightly tipsy. I jump into action, right at his side, arm wrapped around him, tugging him close so he stays on his feet.
He glances up at me, smirking. “My hero.”
But I can’t accept the credit. “I think we know who the real hero is here.”
He steadies himself and draws close for a kiss. My cheeks warm as I push him against the wall, taking that mouth. Because it’s mine to take, and I’m always proud to take it. When I pull away, his breath hitches, his eyes locking with mine.
“Seriously,” I whisper. “I was living half a life before we met, barely knowing how I felt about anything. And now there’s you, and I feel so cared for, so safe.”
His lip curls into a smile I’ve become so familiar with.
“Yeah, definitely yellow,” I say, and his smile spreads into a broad grin. I notice how confident I feel beside him, how he makes me feel invincible, probing at something that surprises even me. “You probably need me to fuck the hell out of you tonight, but would you mind if I read an entry first?” When we went to visit my father over the break, he gave me Mom’s diary, bookmarking a particular entry he believed would be safe for me to read. I haven’t been able to brave a look. Was waiting to feel ready for whatever lies within that page, and tonight, for some reason, feels right.
Dax’s expression turns serious, and now I feel like an ass for spoiling the mood.
“Dumb idea,” I say, turning away.
He rests his hand on my cheek. “It’s not a dumb idea. It just surprised me to hear you say that’s what you wanted. Do you want me to be there when you do it?”
“Yes. I need you there so I can.”
He takes my hand, interlocking our fingers, knowing exactly what I need.
We head into the apartment together, to my bedroom, and I fetch Mom’s diary from my nightstand drawer. Sitting on the edge of the bed with him, I start to open it but stop myself. Tension rises within me. “Fuck,” I mutter. Maybe I was wrong about tonight.
Dax places his hand on my wrist, stroking gently, and I remember to breathe.
It takes me a moment to collect myself before I have some clarity. “This is a big ask,” I say, “but would you mind reading it to me? I feel like whatever it says will be easier to bear if I’m hearing you say it. Sorry, is that too much?” I start to set the diary aside, but he takes it with his free hand. “I’ve got you,” he assures me, those sparkling green eyes giving me another boost of confidence. Yes, he does have me.