Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 148962 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 745(@200wpm)___ 596(@250wpm)___ 497(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148962 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 745(@200wpm)___ 596(@250wpm)___ 497(@300wpm)
I pull out the matte black envelope, curious what it might be. But when I open it, I’m not prepared for what I find.
It’s a stack of meticulously rendered drawings—so detailed, they look like they captured the exact moments these events took place.
The first one illustrates Eros wearing the Ghostface mask, cradling me in his lap as I sleep against his chest. Then there’s one of me at the carnival in my costume, squeezing the giant shark he won me, with an expression of pure happiness. There’s also a depiction of him chasing me through the hall of mirrors, and finally, one of us sharing cotton candy on a Ferris wheel—sans the cages.
“Wow.” Chantel leans in to study them. “These are incredible. Look at how lifelike your expressions are. And all these other details, like the freckles on your nose…” She pauses to look up at me, and I think she’s counting them.
Her eyes widen, and she goes unnaturally still.
“Why do you have that look on your face? You’re freaking me out.”
“Gabi, this man is in love with you.”
“No, he’s not.” I swallow. “We’re keeping things casual.”
God, that word sounds so stupid, and I don’t know why I keep repeating it. I think the only person I’m trying to convince is myself.
“This level of detail is not from a man who thinks about you casually in any sort of way.”
I sit with that for a minute, wondering if that could be true, but then I think of all the times he’s tried to warn me away.
There’s way too much to unpack there, so I shove that thought deep inside a locked vault inside my head, telling myself I’ll come back to it later.
“Will you at least tell me something about him?” Chantel pleads. “I’m dying to know.”
“Well, that’s the thing.” I return the gifts to the box and set it aside. “I don’t really know much about him.”
“Like…at all?” She blinks.
“Nope. He wears a mask, and I told him to keep doing that.”
“I mean, I get it…the mask thing is hot, but how long has this been going on?”
“A while,” I admit. “It just feels less messy this way. I didn’t want any feelings involved.”
“You said didn’t want, as in past tense.” She points out. “Does that mean you do now?”
“I don’t know.” I flop back onto the bed and shove a pillow over my face. “I can’t figure out what I want.”
“Join the club.” Chantel sighs.
I peek out from beneath the pillow. “What do you mean?”
“Nothing.” She shrugs it off. “But we need to get ready. I’m taking you out for breakfast.”
It’s obvious she’s been sent as a distraction to get me out of the penthouse so my friends can set up for my birthday. I haven’t had nearly enough sleep, but I go along with it.
When I get up from the bed, I feel every second of last night with Eros, and Chantel doesn’t miss it.
“Should I be concerned about why you’re walking like that, or did you get railed within an inch of your life last night?”
“It was the latter. I’ll be fine after a shower, I think.”
I hope.
Chantel perks up. “A marathon session, huh? Got any burning questions for your friendly undercover sex columnist?”
I think about it before I nod. “Is it normal for a guy to keep going multiple times a night?”
“It depends on the guy,” she says. “Refractory periods vary from person to person. Some men only need a few minutes to recover, others require hours or even days. Age, health, and dopamine levels all play a role. But yes—it’s totally possible. Psychological arousal is a big one. For example, a man who’s very, very into you can definitely have more stamina.”
“Good to know.”
“Sooo…” Chantel drawls. “Was he very, very into you last night?”
A hint of a smile betrays my resolve to remain neutral. “I suppose you could say that.”
“But not in love with you.” She smirks.
“I’m showering now,” I call over my shoulder as I head into the bathroom, her laughter following me.
I try not to let my thoughts consume me, but as the warm water washes over me, there’s one thing I can’t seem to forget.
Once upon a time, Romeo used to draw pictures of me, too.
28
GABRIELA
Chantel takes me for a light breakfast at a cozy café, and we spend some time browsing a bookstore before we head to a local boutique. After picking out some ridiculously fluffy slippers and a new tote bag, we head back to the penthouse.
“Are you going to give me any idea of what I should expect?” I ask Chantel as we ride the elevator up with Julian.
“Sorry.” She smiles. “I’ve been sworn to secrecy.”
My friends get creative when it comes to planning parties. We always celebrate each other’s birthdays in some fashion or another. Some of the more notable themes have included pastel picnics, mystery dinners, royal garden parties, 90s nostalgia, and Barbie glam.