Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 55832 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55832 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
She gives the slightest nod and returns my smile.
“You’re all doing amazing. What a fantastic group,” the dance instructor says.
“I was late because I fell asleep in the bed, which did help my back. I won’t apologize to Lake for what I said, he deserved it, but I’ll apologize to you for making you wait.”
She lets out a deep breath and nods. “I appreciate that.”
I don’t know if that means she accepts my apology or not, but we start dancing around the room like it’s just the two of us. The faster we move, the more she laughs, and I like the attention it’s drawing to us.
We both smile as we move and right as the song ends, I lift her and she wraps her legs around me. I smile at her, seeking permission to kiss her and she gives her answer by sinking her fingers into my hair.
My lips touch hers and instinctively my fingers sink into her ass. It’s a quick kiss, but it did what it was supposed to do.
Lake is glaring at us and my mother is beaming with excitement.
Willow slides down my body and I flinch as my back reminds me it was a stupid idea.
“Your back?” Willow asks, resting her hands on my shoulders.
“Yeah, I guess it’s not totally better.”
“I’m sorry, Brock.”
“Don’t be, just let me sleep in the bed tonight.”
She smiles and I feel victorious.
“Nope.”
Fuck.
Chapter 9
Willow
My mind has been a see-saw of emotion. Should I let Brock sleep in the bed? Or not? Honestly, I know I’m going to let him sleep next to me. I can’t very well enjoy watching him in pain day in and day out. It’s not very nice of me.
After dinner tonight, we both made our way to our room, and when he slipped into the bathroom to get ready for bed, I laid on the couch. I don’t know how he’s been sleeping on that rock. Because that’s exactly what it feels like—a lump of rocks. Poor guy.
Feeling bad instantly, I head to the bed, moving a few pillows along my side so he can have enough room to sleep. It’s a pretty big bed. I guess I shouldn’t have hogged the thing all to myself anyway. Brock exits the bathroom, and our eyes meet.
“You can sleep in the bed,” I tell him, feeling so sorry for him. “I’m sorry you’ve been in pain.”
He nods. “Thanks.”
For the first time in years, I don’t want to wring Brock’s neck. Instead, I want to wrap my arms around it, maybe kiss his plush, soft lips. I shake my head, trying my best to get these inappropriate thoughts out of my head.
“Lake looked pissed. You have to admit that.” Brock lifts the comforter and slides into bed.
I slowly climb into bed, trying my best to keep myself away from Brock’s side. I feel weird for some reason. Like there’s something happening to my body. And I know Brock’s not feeling any of it. Just me.
Has it really been that long since I’ve been this close to a man that my body is reacting to it? I need to calm all my girly parts and breathe.
“You okay?” Brock asks me as I lay as still as a statue next to him in the bed.
I nod. “I’m fine. And yes, Lake looked really upset.” I turn to face Brock. “Thank you, seriously. I’m glad we’re doing this,” I tell him.
“Even if we don’t get along?” His voice is deep and vibrates through my bones.
“Why don’t we get along?” I ask, seriously wondering.
Brock’s dark eyes widen as he stares at me. “I’m not really sure.”
“Me either,” I breathe out.
We lay in silence, staring at each other, studying one another. His eyes, dark and intense, seem to search mine for answers neither of us have. The dim light casts shadows on his face, highlighting the strong lines of his jaw and the curve of his lips. I can see the softness in his expression, a vulnerability that I haven't noticed before. It makes my heart ache a little.
Finally, I roll over to hit the light on the bedside table, my hand trembling slightly as I do. The room plunges into darkness, but the sense of intimacy remains, amplified by the absence of light. I resume my position, facing Brock. I can barely make out his face in the dark, but soon my eyes adjust with the help of the faint light of the moon coming through the window. The moonlight spills across the bed, illuminating his features just enough for me to see him.
His eyes are still open, watching me, and there's a softness there that makes me feel safe and unnerved all at once. The shadows play tricks with the contours of his face, making him look almost ethereal. I notice the way his chest rises and falls with each breath, the rhythmic sound soothing yet strangely exciting.