Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 121898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
“It wasn’t a gift,” I lied. “I bought it for me.”
“Is it an emergency?”
I was going to Hell for this lie. “They’re sanitary pads. I’m on my period.”
He paused, then said, “All right, sure. Hold on, let me turn around. Give me a few.”
“Thanks. I’ll be waiting.”
The line went dead, and I clutched at my phone, staring out of the window. I’d dug myself such a hole that I may as well have been buried alive, but desperate times called for desperate measures.
I’d never considered myself a particularly desperate person, but here I was.
Being desperate.
The road at the bottom of the driveway was illuminated, and my breath hitched when I saw his car turning and pulling up the slope. My stomach was so tight, as if I’d just done a core workout, and I opened the front door as he backed up in the front of the house.
Thomas got out of the car, barely glancing at me. “In the boot?”
“Huh?”
“Your bag.”
“Oh, right. Yeah.” I bit down onto my thumbnail as he opened the boot and pulled out a small paper bag. “Is this it?”
I nodded, and he handed it over without making eye contact.
He closed the boot down with a clunk. “Like I said, let me know if you need anything.”
“You,” I said quietly, looking at the back tyre.
“What?”
I swallowed and looked up to see his gaze fixed intensely on me. “You. I said, ‘you.’”
He ran his hand through his hair. “Sylvie…”
“Here.” I held the bag back out. “This doesn’t have pads in. I’m not on my period, either. It’s not even mine. I just… needed you to come back.”
Thomas took the small bag and peered inside. It was full of his things, of course, and he sighed when he saw it. “For someone who didn’t want ambiguity less than an hour ago, you’re bullshitting an awful lot.”
“I’m not bullshitting,” I replied softly. “But I know what you’re saying. I do. I don’t understand it myself.”
“What do you want me to do about that?”
“Will you come in?”
He smirked. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? You know how I feel about you. We’re alone. How do you know I won’t do something you’ll regret tomorrow?”
I pulled my sleeve up over my fist and touched it to my chin. “I didn’t call you because I thought I’d regret anything that might happen, Thomas.”
With his gaze still fixed on me, he locked his car and stepped inside. “It’s fucking freezing in here.”
“Only the pig gets heating privileges,” I replied, pulling off my hat. “She has a personal electric radiator.”
“Lah-di-dah.” Thomas shrugged off his coat and held his hand out for mine. “I hope you realise that me accepting your invitation to come in was done with impure intentions. If you’re uncomfortable with that, tell me now, and I’ll leave.”
Impure intentions?
“I called you back here with a bare-faced lie. Do you think that was done with pure intentions? Did you think I was offering you a cup of tea?” I raised my eyebrows. “I appreciate that you’re trying to be a gentleman, but don’t. You’ll just be wasting our time.”
“What do you—”
I stepped against him and reached up, laying my hand against the side of his face. “Forgive me for this.”
Then, I kissed him.
On the tippiest of my toes, pressing my body against his with my palm cupping his stubble-coated cheek, I laid my lips against his as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
And it really might have been.
The swish of our coats hitting the floor rushed through the air, and Thomas wrapped his arms around me. One circled my waist, pinning me to him, while his other hand snaked up my spine to cup the back of my head. Within seconds, all control of our kiss had been surrendered to him, and I melted into him, completely at his mercy.
Willingly at his mercy.
Everything in my life was done to precision. There was no room for error in either planning or fixing, and even my free time was carefully allotted and even plotted.
Thomas was the one thing in my life that I hadn’t planned for—that I had no space for. Not his feelings, not my feelings.
Not yet one more thing to tie me to Castleton.
To shake my resolve.
To make me want to uproot the life I’d built.
I wanted to forget it all. To let go of the control I held onto so tightly. To surrender myself to my impulses, to my deepest, darkest wants.
Which, right now, was Thomas.
But was that fair to him?
Was it right for me to stand here enveloped in his arms while he kissed me so deeply I felt it in the tips of my toes?
Was it fair if I kissed him knowing how he felt about me? When I was so hesitant to voice my own feelings? When those emotions were so muddled by jealousy and selfishness?