Total pages in book: 162
Estimated words: 158872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 530(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 158872 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 530(@300wpm)
“Go on!” Griff shouts.
My foot slips as I dismount. For a second, I wobble, thrown by the weight of my backpack. Griff’s arm shoots out and he catches me around the waist, steadying me.
My wet clothes cling to my skin in the most uncomfortable way as we make a run for the front door of Griff’s apartment building.
“Sorry!” he shouts as we tumble into the entrance. “I thought we’d make it home in time.” Drops of water glisten on the tips of his hair, and I reach up to brush the wet strands off his forehead.
“It’s okay.” My nose wrinkles. “I feel gross though.”
He holds out his keys to me. “Go on upstairs and get dry. I want to cover my bike and move it to a different spot. You can borrow one of my T-shirts to change into.”
“Don’t leave me waiting too long.” I plan to change but into something with a whole lot less material than a T-shirt.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Griff
Now that the sky’s let loose, the storm rages like a living thing, trying to keep me from Molly. The wind and rain batter my back as I race into my apartment building, splashing through puddles.
Finally, I’m inside, and I slam the door shut behind me.
My phone buzzes and I pull it out of my pocket.
Remy: Is Molly with you?
Me: Yes.
Remy: OK.
He doesn’t need more detail than that.
The building’s quiet. A sense of relief slides through me as I pass my mother’s now empty apartment. I’ve only heard from her once since she left for Jersey. No news is usually good news where she’s concerned.
I stop outside the door to my apartment to unlace my boots and leave them to dry in the hallway. Inside, I find a towel folded on the back of the couch. Assuming Molly left it for me, I grab it and swipe it over my head and face.
“Where you at, Muffin?” I peel my jacket off as I cross the living room into the kitchen. I toss my phone on the counter. The whir of the dryer spinning draws my attention. I open it, strip off my clothes, and toss them in. A bolt of lightning illuminates the kitchen. I take the towel and wrap it around my waist.
I cock my head. No sounds above the wind and rain outside. Where’d Molly go?
Another bolt of lightning brightens everything, blinding in its intensity.
The lights blink out and darkness blankets everything.
“Shit,” I grumble, feeling around for the drawer where I keep odds and ends. “Molly, you okay? Give me a second. I’ll grab a flashlight or some candles.”
Even though I know my place well, moving through it when it’s pitch-black isn’t the easiest. I fumble my phone off the counter and click the flashlight app on, then carefully sift through the drawer where I usually keep a bright tactical flashlight. Nothing. Fuck.
Molly gave me a candle when I moved in. Where’d I put it? Cabinet. My fingers brush against the heavy glass jar, almost knocking it on my head. I grab it and rummage through the drawer for a lighter. Once it’s lit, I return to the living room.
“Molly? Where you at?”
“In here.”
Bedroom.
All my blood heads south.
I hated telling her we had to go earlier when we were tangled up together in the back seat of her car. Even getting caught in the raging storm hasn’t stopped my mind from replaying her body pressed up against me over and over.
Now we’re alone. In my apartment. And she’s in my bedroom. During a blackout.
Every nerve in my body thrums with anticipation.
I cross the threshold and at first can’t make out any details. A soft glow from what looks like several small candles on my nightstand provides some guidance. Another flash of lightning illuminates the room.
There she is. Sitting on the farthest edge of my bed, facing the window.
My gaze slips over her bare shoulders. Her long curtain of dark hair spilling down her back obscures my view. Can’t tell if she’s completely naked or not.
Can’t wait to find out.
I set the candle on my dresser and slowly make my way around the bed until I’m standing in front of her. “What are you doing in here all by yourself?”
“Waiting for you.” She holds her hand out, inviting me closer.
No, wait, she’s handing me a piece of paper.
The corners of my mouth tip up. “What’s this?” I take the folded note.
She stretches, resting her hands on the mattress and arching her back, letting me get the full view of the sheer bra and panty set covering almost nothing.
My mouth waters, and I can’t stop my gaze from gliding over all her curves. She lifts one leg and rests her foot on the edge of the mattress but angles her knee to obstruct my view.
“Read it.” She encourages me.
Read? I’m not sure I remember how. Not when I’m dying to slide my tongue over every inch of her exposed skin.