Total pages in book: 34
Estimated words: 34243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 171(@200wpm)___ 137(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 171(@200wpm)___ 137(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
Why is that making me feel all strange and restless?
Why am I suddenly finding it hard to breathe?
Why does it feel like I’m about to...to...
“What do you think, Tiara?”
He knows my name!
Even though I haven’t told him, he knows my name, and that’s proof, isn’t it?
That’s proof that he’s not real, and that’s why—
“What must I do if we want to wake you—”
I don’t even let him finish speaking. I’m already clutching his shirt to pull him close, and I think I heard him chuckle—I’m not quite sure, and honestly, I don’t really care at this point because he...he already gets it, and he more than meets me halfway, with his mouth covering mine, and...aaaah!
This is my first kiss.
Ever.
And it’s not real.
My first kiss isn’t real, but I don’t care because the way he’s taken possession of my mouth is unreal. The way he’s now cupping my face as he deepens the kiss—it feels like he’s tasting me all the way to my soul, and he’s making it harder and harder for me to breathe, and I just...I just don’t care!
This kiss is so, so unreal that I don’t want it to end. I want him to keep kissing me like this, with how he’s making my heart race so fast, and...and...oh my gosh! I’m up in his arms all of a sudden, and my back is against the wall, and there’s no longer any space separating our bodies. His chest is hard and warm, my legs have wrapped themselves around his waist, and no!
A cry slips past my lips when his mouth leaves me, but this turns quickly into a whimper as his lips move against my skin—
“Relax.”
—just moving lower and lower to the side of my neck, and his warm breath against my flesh has my nails digging into his back. Any time now, any moment now, any second he’s going to do—
Aaaah!
—that.
Mr. Not Real is claiming me as his, and although I know the mark he’ll leave will be as unreal as he is—
I honestly don’t care. I’ve never felt this unreal before. Never felt this free, never felt—
“Ahem.”
I squeeze my eyes shut the moment I hear it.
“AHEM.”
I know it’s coming from the real world.
"AHEM."
But I have no plans of waking up. No plans of letting him go or—
What in the world?
One moment I’m still in his arms, the next moment he’s gently lowering me to my feet, and he’s slowly stepping away, and I find myself staring straight into a pair of blue eyes that’s almost exactly like mine.
Icelle?
“Icelle.”
Her name pops up in my mind at the same time I hear Mr. Not Real drawl her name, and when Icelle actually turns to him like he’s real—
No, no, no!
I spin so fast to face him I nearly lose my balance. Am I still dreaming or is this really happening? Is he actually real even though it doesn’t make sense that—
“Is this why you want to be friends with me?”
It’s Icelle speaking again, and I...I don’t understand. Her voice is her usual calm voice, but why does her RBF suddenly look like it’s about to crack?
“Because you want to date my stepbrother?”
Chapter Three
I DIDN’T EVEN KNOW private jets could have stairs.
Like, actual stairs. With a railing and everything. And yet here I am, on the upper floor of a plane, sitting on a couch so soft I’m afraid to move. Because planes have second floors now. Sure. Why not.
“Charm is deceitful,” I say darkly, “and beauty is vain.”
Icelle blinks at me, which for her, is an expression of extreme confusion. “You’re quoting the Bible when you don’t even go to church?”
“You quote Shakespeare,” I shoot back, “but you weren’t even born when he wrote his plays!”
“That’s not even—”
“Anyway—” I tuck my legs under me and cross my arms over my chest. What’s done is done, so I don’t see the point of rehashing the past. “There’s nothing you can say that will change my mind about him,” I declare with a huff. “But don’t get me wrong—I’m glad that you believe me. I really am.”
Not lying either. After catching us doing the unthinkable—aargh.
I find myself fanning my face as memories assail my mind, and they’re just so vivid, I’m not simply replaying but reliving.
The warmth of his touch when he cupped my face...
The explosive heat of his kiss as he covered my mouth with his...
The fabric of his shirt bunched in my fists as I pulled him closer...
The little sounds that tell a story of something forbidden and dangerous the moment my back slides against the wall, and—
“Do you still have something to say, Ti?”
ARGH, I can’t believe I lost track of the conversation because I’m too busy remembering his kiss.
Concentrate, Ti!
When Icelle asked me earlier about having an ulterior motive, I said ‘no’ (like, duh, I’m never that subtle for one), and Icelle being Icelle, she looked at me with RBF for two seconds (a novella’s worth of explanations, but I’m just not the one who can translate it), and then she grabbed my hand and told Arkane very seriously—