Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 24900 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 125(@200wpm)___ 100(@250wpm)___ 83(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24900 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 125(@200wpm)___ 100(@250wpm)___ 83(@300wpm)
“You’re kind of a caveman,” I say, hoping to lighten the mood.
He doesn’t open his eyes. “Your caveman.”
He’s not wrong. “That’s right,” I admit. “And I’m keeping you.”
Nathan’s smile goes full wattage. He finally opens his eyes, and for a second, I’m pinned in place by the raw intensity of his stare. “Damn right, you are.” It’s a little unnerving how easily he can strip me bare, not just physically, but emotionally. I guess it’s fair. He’s seen me at my absolute worst. I’ve seen him at his.
I roll onto my back, stretching like a lazy cat. Every muscle in my body protests, but I do it anyway because I’m an idiot and also because I want him to see all of me. Not just the parts that are safe or easy to love.
Nathan props himself up on his elbow, head in his hand, and looks at me like I’m a math equation he finally solved. I want to say something clever, but all that comes out is, “So, what happens now?”
His brow furrows. “Now, we move your shit into my place and live happily ever after.”
He says it like he can snap his fingers and make it happen. And actually, maybe he can.
“That fast?” I bite my bottom lip, hoping I’m not freaking dreaming.
“Not to throw your own words back at you,” he smirks, “but six years isn’t moving fast.” His dark eyes turn serious as he tightens his hold on me. “Waiting to make you mine was just fucking… stupid. I’m not waiting another goddamn second.”
“Okay.” I’m tired of letting fear hold me back. It’s time to jump in with both feet.
Nathan smiles again, soft and a little amazed. “It’s always been you, Roni.” His hand finds mine on the sheets, and he laces our fingers together. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” I swallow around a lump in my throat. “It’s always been you for me, too, but I was too chicken to admit it. I didn’t want to lose you. Or get hurt.”
His thumb traces over my knuckles, slow and steady. “You could never lose me. I’d chain myself to you before I let that happen.” His tone is so matter-of-fact, so perfectly Nathan, that I believe him completely.
We lapse into silence again, but this time, it’s warm and full of possibilities instead of anxiety. I close my eyes and let myself drift, listening to the city outside the windows and the steady, reassuring heartbeat thumping in Nathan’s chest.
I love the way we fit together, both physically and emotionally. I love that he knows all my secrets, all my weird quirks, and doesn’t run away screaming. I love that he’s never afraid to be vulnerable with me, even when it’s awkward or uncomfortable.
I love him. Plain and simple.
Nathan pulls the blankets up over us and tucks me under his chin, holding me like I’m something precious. I think about all the years I wasted being afraid, all the times I told myself it would never happen, and I want to kick my own ass.
But maybe the waiting makes it sweeter. Maybe this is what it’s supposed to feel like when you finally get the thing you’ve wanted your whole life.
We lie there for a long time, just breathing and being together. At some point, my eyelids start to droop, and my brain floats away on a gentle tide of endorphins.
Before I fall asleep, Nathan whispers in my ear, “Mine.”
And for the first time in forever, I don’t want to run from the word. I want to let it soak in, fill all the cracks in my soul.
I’m his.
CHAPTER EIGHT
NATHAN
The first thing I’m aware of is heat. The second is the little snore, soft and whistly, coming from somewhere near my rib cage.
I crack open one eye. Roni is burrowed into my side, cheek pressed to my chest, drooling adorably. Her arms are wrapped around my torso in a death grip, like she’s worried someone’s going to try and steal me in the middle of the night. Not a chance. If anything, I’m the one planning to never let her go.
For the first time in six years, I wake up with her exactly where I want her. Naked. Tangled up in my sheets. Mine. I stare down at the curve of her hip, the pale stretch of her thigh peeking from beneath the covers. Her hair’s a total disaster, fanned out over my chest and the pillow, but she looks fucking perfect.
She shifts, nose twitching. Her leg slides over mine and, suddenly, I’m at half-mast, brain immediately defaulting to the greatest hits reel from last night. The memory is so sharp I have to bite back a groan. If I’m not careful, I’ll wake her up with morning wood jabbing her in the thigh.
I run a hand down her back, tracing the long line of her spine, and she stirs. A bleary blue eye cracks open, then narrows.