Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 91840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
The memory slams into me, and a big goofy grin appears on my mouth.
I bury my face into the pillow, and I get a strong whiff of Gabe.
When I woke up last night to the feel of his hand touching my face, I thought I was dreaming. Until I opened my eyes and looked at him.
And then I asked him to kiss me. I can’t believe I was so bold!
But then he did, and oh my God…
It was everything and more than I’d thought it would be.
And I’ve thought a lot about Gabe kissing me. Especially since I’ve been living here with him. Well, I’ve thought about more than just kissing.
Let’s just say, my fingers have been busy in bed since I moved in here.
Gabe is an incredible kisser. I’ve never been kissed so thoroughly and with so much passion as he kissed me.
I’ve never felt more wanted.
Not even by Jeremy.
Jeremy is nothing compared to Gabe.
They’re not even comparable.
Gabe is amazing. A jerk at times, but that’s part of the charm. I like everything about him, including his assholish ways.
Actually, I more than like him. And I want him so very badly.
I was gutted that he stopped us last night before we could go any further, but I understood completely. The last thing I want to do is cause his foot any more damage than I already have.
I can wait to sleep with him.
If he wants to, that is.
But, if going by the boner he was sporting last night while kissing me, then I’d say he wants to.
Pushing the covers back, I climb out of his bed. Gucci lifts her head.
“Come on, girl. Toilet time.”
She jumps off Gabe’s bed and follows me out into the living room.
Gabe’s out on the terrace.
My heart jumps at the sight of him, sitting on a chair, smoking a cigarette.
Gucci trots on ahead of me, out onto the terrace.
Gabe turns his head at the sound of her. Then, he glances up at me when I walk out onto the terrace. But he barely looks at me before he moves his eyes away and takes another drag of his cigarette.
But what I did see on his face makes my stomach feel hollow.
He regrets kissing me last night.
My eyes move, and I see a glass filled with clear liquid on the table. I’d like to think it’s water, but something tells me it’s not.
“Morning,” I say, my voice sounding rough.
I walk over to the railing and rest my arms against it, looking out at Hollywood.
I hear his glass clink against the glass tabletop as he picks it up, but he doesn’t say anything.
Even though I feel a little sick inside, I force myself to turn around and face him.
I notice now that his hair is damp, and he’s dressed smarter than he has been for the last couple of weeks. He’s been wearing athletic shorts, as they’re all he can get on over the boot, but today, he’s wearing black cargo shorts and a white short-sleeved shirt.
He must have bathed without my help. And he had to have taken the boot off to get the shorts on and then put it back on. Couldn’t have been easy for him to manage alone. Clearly, he didn’t want me helping him.
I rest my back against the railing. I see Gucci is sitting by the pool, her head tilted to the side, watching me.
I look back to Gabe, who definitely does not want to look at me. “Have you eaten?” I ask him. “I can make breakfast—”
“I’m fine.” Another drag of his cigarette. A tap to get the ash in the tray. Another drink of his liquor.
“Okay. Well, I was going to make coffee. Would you like—”
“I said, I’m fine.” His eyes snap up to mine.
Well, at least he’s looking at me now, but honestly, I wish he weren’t.
His eyes look hard and cold. A complete contrast to how he was looking at me in the dark of his room last night.
A chill coats my skin even though it’s warm. I rub my hands over my arms.
He looks away, drains his glass, and puts out his cigarette. Getting his crutches, he gets to his feet. “I have a few meetings today, so I’ll be out for most of the day.”
He never said anything yesterday about having meetings today.
A little voice whispers in my head, He wants to get away from you.
“Oh. Right. Do you need me to drive you?”
“No. I arranged for a driver to take me.” He starts to head for the door to go back inside.
“What should I do today then?”
He stops moving, the line of his shoulders taut. “Do whatever the fuck you want, Ava. You don’t have to check with me. I’m not your boyfriend.”
And there it is.
“But you are my boss.” I force my voice to sound stronger than I feel.