Total pages in book: 168
Estimated words: 153571 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 768(@200wpm)___ 614(@250wpm)___ 512(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 153571 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 768(@200wpm)___ 614(@250wpm)___ 512(@300wpm)
"The day you told Tahani about your father, she came to me," I say, sliding one hand up her back into her hair. I hold her to me, tucking her face into my neck again while I talk. "She was so pissed at your dad about the way you grew up. I've never seen her that upset before." I touch my forehead to hers again. "She may be mad about this, but I promise you, sweetheart, Tahani loves you. She could never hate you."
"Okay," she whispers, the word little more than a trembling sigh.
I tip her face up and press my lips to hers, kissing her hard. She kisses me back, slipping her tongue into my mouth. With a soft curse, I tilt her head, using the hand I have tangled in her hair to move her where I want her. We make out until we're both panting for breath, and I'm hard again, and then I break away.
"I didn't know she told you about my dad," Mila says a few minutes later, curling up in my lap.
I run my hands up and down her back, being careful to avoid the bruises across her upper back and ribcage. I fucking hate the fact that they're there. Her entire upper back is black and blue.
Aside from bitching about not getting orgasms and about me hovering, which I have been doing, she hasn't really complained once. She just keeps moving forward, refusing to let anything slow her down. I admire the hell out of her strength. More than she knows.
"She did," I confirm. "Do you ever talk to him?"
"Nope."
"Jesus. I'm sorry." I press a kiss to her crown, hating that her father is a piece of shit. She deserves more than that. A hell of a lot more.
"I'm not," she says, her voice soft. "My life is better without him in it. I used to wish that wasn't true, but I don't anymore."
"Why not?" I can't imagine not being in Tahani's life. Being a dad…fuck, I never knew I wanted that until I found out I had a kid. The minute I met Tahani, everything changed. She's a piece of me. I wouldn't change being her father for anything. I can't imagine just walking away from her. I can't wrap my mind around the fact that Mila's father could just allow her to walk out of his life. How do you know someone like Mila and let her go? It makes no sense to me.
"The day I moved out, I asked him why he never wanted me after my mom died. He said that looking at me and wishing it had been me instead of her hurt." Her voice shakes a little, and I know that shit still hurts her, a whole hell of a lot worse than saying it hurt him. Even if she doesn't want to admit it, him saying that shit to her broke her heart.
I want to kill him for that. The urge to wrap my hands around his throat and choke the life out of him rises hot and fast, ripping through me like a tidal wave. I take deep breaths in and out, trying to keep her from seeing what her confession does to me. I've killed before because I had to, because that's what was required of me, but her father? I'd enjoy taking his miserable fucking life. He doesn't deserve to live in the same world with her.
"He isn't worth it," she whispers, and I know she's guessed exactly how I feel.
Somehow, she always fucking knows how I feel.
I don't believe in soulmates or destiny or any of that bullshit, but sometimes, with Mila, I can't help but wonder if maybe there's a little of something bigger than the two of us at play between us. We've circled in each other's orbit for so long that we share the same field of gravity. Crashing into one another was inevitable. Consuming one another was always meant to happen.
My arms tighten around her until I'm holding her as tightly as I can, breathing in her sweet scent. It's peaches and sunshine and everything that's right in my world.
"Your father was a fucking idiot," I tell her eventually, sweeping her hair away from her face so I can see her eyes. So she can see mine and know that I mean every word I'm about to say to her. "He had something precious when he had you, and he was too fucking blind to cherish you when he had the chance. I cherish you, though, baby. I don't know what I did to deserve you, but I'm fucking grateful you gave me a chance anyway. You're extraordinary. Don't ever question your worth, not because of him. Not because of anyone."
"Okay," she says sweetly, her expression soft. Any lingering sadness over her father is gone, washed away by the sincerity still burning in my throat.