Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 27969 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 140(@200wpm)___ 112(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27969 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 140(@200wpm)___ 112(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
"I'm a mess," I groan, burying my face in my hands.
"No." Sarah pries them away, forcing me to look at her. "You throw yourself into life with your whole heart. Now, you're in love, and you've never felt that way before. You're scared because he matters to you."
"I don't want to mess it up," I whisper. "I can't live beside him for the rest of my life and not be his."
"I've seen the way he looks at you. You can't mess it up."
"Again, have you met me?"
"Olive," Lilah says with a little laugh. "You've already accused the man of being a serial killer, a stalker, and of having someone tied up in his basement, and he still looks at you with stars in his eyes."
"He is a stalker," I mutter. "He admitted that he follows me here."
"You're only proving my point," she says, grinning at me. "Despite everything, he still wants you. He's still wild enough about you that he willingly strolls into this bookstore and browses, just to spend five minutes in your presence. The man is wild about you. He isn't going anywhere."
"I think that's what's freaking me out," I admit on a whisper.
Lilah blinks at me. "You're freaking out because he's not going anywhere?"
"I have a history," I explain. "I learned how to deal with being ghosted and stood up. I even learned how to dust myself off after being offered cocaine or watching my date being led away in handcuffs. But…I don't know what to do with a man who stays." I stare at her with wide eyes. "Especially one like Mason."
"You love him," Sarah says.
"I've never felt anything like this before. I don't know what to do next. I thought I'd die alone. I accepted that I'd die alone. Now, there's Mason, and it all feels so damn…good!" I cry softly. "I don't know what to do with that."
"You enjoy it," Lilah says, sipping her coffee. "You climb that man as often as possible, you create a little chaos in his life, and you give him nine thousand new reasons to love you every day just by being you. The rest will fall into place. You don't have to have all the answers. You just have to follow your heart."
"Follow my heart." Right. I can do that. Except…my heart has never spoken to me before now. It's always wanted love, but it's never found it. It's never been staring down the barrel at it, desperate to keep it. If I fuck it up now, I'll never recover.
So…I just have to not fuck it up.
I can do that.
One way or another, I will do that.
Chapter Ten
Mason
"What are you doing?"
"Ahh!" Olive screams, whipping around to face me with her hands up like she's some kind of goddamn ninja instead of a five-foot-five brunette who wears PJs that match her dog's.
She's been off for the last few days. I can't quite put my finger on what it is, but she's just…different. Less Rebel and more body-swapped 1950s housewife. It's weird as fuck.
"You scared me."
"I can see that." I lean against the counter, eyeing her up and down. "What are you doing?"
"Making dinner."
"You hate cooking."
"I don't hate it."
I snort, taking a step toward her. "You're a shit liar, Olive. I've lived beside you for two weeks. You order more delivery than any other human alive."
"Well, maybe I just wanted to do something nice for you," she mutters defensively.
"Appreciate that, baby," I murmur, trapping her up against the counter. "But you don't have to cook for me. You don't have to clean for me, do my laundry, run errands for me, or any of the other shit you've been trying to do the last few days, either."
"I'm just being nice."
"No." I hook my hands around her waist, hauling her up to plant her ass on the island. "You're being weird."
"Am not," she lies, avoiding my gaze.
I crane her head back, forcing her to look at me. "Talk to me, Rebel. What's going on?"
"Nothing."
"Is this moving too fast for you? Do I need to learn to keep my hands to myself? Spend more time at my own goddamn house?" Doing either of those things might actually kill me. I'm so in love with this wild woman, I can't even breathe through it most days. But if that's what she needs, I'll find a way to do it.
"What?" Tears well in her eyes, her bottom lip quivering. "You don't want to be here?"
"That's not what I said. I asked what you want from me, baby."
"I want you to stay!" she cries. "I'm trying to behave so you do."
Jesus.
I take a beat, trying to process what she's just said. And then I get pissed. I crank the knob on the stove, turning it off, and then snatch her off the counter, holding her up against my chest as I stomp down the hall to my office.