Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 147545 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 738(@200wpm)___ 590(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147545 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 738(@200wpm)___ 590(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
I love feeling the weight of him against me.
I caress the back of his head absently, feeling more at peace than I have all evening.
The smell coming from the kitchen changes, though. It’s starting to smell bad.
He must notice the same thing, because when he lifts his head, he says wryly, “I hope you weren’t hungry.”
I crack a smile. “Oh no, your dinner.”
He shrugs, settling back against my chest. “No regrets. This was a better dinner.”
My smile softens, and I don’t know if it’s the orgasm talking—because honestly, my body whispers this shit at me every time he makes me come—but I think I love him. I also think that’s crazy, so I keep it to myself.
Eventually, he does have to climb off me. He snatches his T-shirt off the floor, then goes to the kitchen to turn off the stove so my new apartment doesn’t burn down. He turns on the fan, but it doesn’t do much to help the smell right away, so he cracks the window near the dining table to help with ventilation.
Tor comes back to the living room, where I am still lying boneless on the couch.
“We should go shower and give the place a little time to air out.”
I look up at him, so handsome in his jeans and black T-shirt. “I can’t move.” Theatrically, I reach out a hand to him. “Help me.”
Tor smirks, taking my hand, but he doesn’t playfully use it to pull me to my feet like I expect him to. Instead, he drops it after only a second and bends down, sliding his arms beneath me and lifting me bridal style.
“Oh,” I murmur in surprise, sliding my arms around his neck. “You’re so strong.”
I feel myself blushing a little as he carries me to the bathroom. I was only joking, of course, but damn.
I’ve never had a bathroom large enough to be carried into, but he easily gets me inside and kicks the door shut before letting me down. One hand slides from his shoulder to his chest, but the other stays wrapped around his neck. I lean up on my tiptoes to steal a kiss before I move away from him.
Tor’s not a fan of distance, so he comes up behind me, locking his arms around my waist immediately. He pushes me forward, pinning me against the counter and meeting my gaze in the mirror as he holds me snugly against him.
Those crazy words want to spill out now that I’ve acknowledged the feelings to myself, but I don’t want to be the first to say them.
Maybe he already knows.
I don’t know how we could have gotten through the nonstop insanity we have been through together without forming some kind of soul-deep bond.
Maybe it’s a trauma bond. Maybe it only feels like love.
Maybe I’m just lucky the person I ended up so extraordinarily bonded to also turned out to be wonderful because it could have gone a different way.
Despite everything, I do feel lucky to have him.
Each new day with Tor may be some kind of roller coaster, but maybe that’s only because I’m getting used to him. Surely it won’t always be that way.
CHAPTER 27
CASSIE
“You never did tell me what your type was.”
Tor glances up from the plate of eggs, sausage, and pineapple slices I made him for breakfast. “You sure? I feel like I did.”
I shake my head. “Nope. I specifically asked because I wanted to know, and then you didn’t answer me.”
He smirks. “Is it driving you crazy?”
“A little.”
“Why? You’re my type.”
“But why? Tell me what qualities you look for in a woman. This is a standard question. I should have known this before we even started having sex. This is an early dating question.”
“To make sure you’re compatible. We already know we are.”
“Tor. Oh my god. Just tell me what your type is.”
His smirk grows, and he shakes his head, enjoying tormenting me for some reason. “I don’t have a lengthy checklist of what I look for in a woman. Someone loyal and loving with a good heart, but other than that, I’m pretty flexible.”
“You don’t have a physical type?”
“Brunettes,” he says, but I shoot him a look. I think he’s only saying it because I have dark hair.
“You’re impossible,” I tell him, shaking my head as I stab some scrambled eggs.
“Why are you so hung up on this?”
“I’m not hung up on it. I’m just curious. You and I obviously got thrown together in a weird way. I guess I just want to know… if I’m someone you would have picked.”
He cocks an eyebrow as he takes a drink of his orange juice. “Trust me,” he says, setting the glass down on the table. “I picked you.”
Before I can pester him further, I’m surprised by a knock on the apartment door.
Tor stands, holding up a hand. “Stay here,” he tells me. “I think that’s my mom.”