Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 74451 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74451 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
She studies me intently, obviously having something on her mind.
“Do you have another question for me?” I prompt, moving the conversation forward before she can use Emily to push me away.
She closes her eyes for a moment, and when she opens them, the traces of pain, the sadness after Emily was brought up, are gone. I have no clue what could be going on there, but I will find out.
“What's my favorite color?” she asks, tilting her chin as if she's already beat me.
I blink. Shit. I have no idea, but I'm not about to admit that. I glance around, seeing a lot of yellows, more yellow than green. Throw pillows, the wall color, the curtains on the only window. It's looks like filtered sunshine.
“Yellow.”
She laughs. “God, no.”
“It's the most prominent color in here,” I argue.
“It was the only color that made this place feel airy like it isn't mostly underground.”
“Okay, so what's your favorite color?” I ask.
Tillie doesn't answer me. Instead, she starts walking away as I watch her.
She peeks over her shoulder. “Are you going to follow me?”
My eyes trail down her back to her ass as she continues to walk away. Fuck, those curves are dangerous. I'd follow this woman anywhere. I move so I can follow her, my eyes still firmly glued to her ass, watching how it sways until it hypnotizes me. It's as juicy as an apple, and I'd love to take a bite right now.
I finally manage to lift my eyes from her perfect ass as we pass a bathroom. It’s painted in the same cream color as the rest of the short hallway. The bathroom is small but has a full-size shower.
“You don't take long soaking baths?” I ask. She looks back at me, clearly startled.
“Huh?” she asks.
I shrug. “You just seem like the kind of girl who would enjoy a bubble bath. Honestly, I picture you as the type to soak in the tub surrounded by candles.”
She smiles. “Yeah, that sounds nice, but there wasn't room in here for a good soaking tub. I'm the one that had to put that shower in. Mom and Dad had a little corner one, but I could barely turn around. I’m not exactly a small girl.”
I frown as I start to see the pattern with Tillie. She's quick to put herself down. I reach over, grabbing her. I pull her so she's forced to turn around to face me. I hold her closely, drinking in her beautiful face. When she tries to avoid my eyes, I lift her chin until she looks at me with her big brown eyes. “You’re fucking perfect, Buttons.”
“I'm not sure what to make of you like this,” she admits as her cheeks bloom into a deep pink.
“What do you mean?” I ask, confused.
“You're being nice to me and trying to...I don't know...pretend like you're attracted to me. I just can't figure out why,” she says, her nose scrunching up with her confusion. She’s so fucking cute.
“I’m attracted to you, Tillie. If I were any more attracted to you, I'd throw you over my shoulder, drag you back to my place and chain you to my damn bed.”
She exhales in what I suppose is meant to be humor. “I would break your back. I'm not like Emily or the other girls I'm sure you're used to, Ryder. I'm not a size zero. I'm a sixteen, on a good day, and more often than not, an eighteen.”
I sigh, “You’re a ten to me, Tillie.” The frustration with her putting herself down is getting to me. I doubt she realizes it at this point. I squat down, wrapping my arms around her knees, lifting her quickly over my shoulder as she squeals, trying to hold onto me.
“What are you doing?” she squawks.
“I'm proving to you that you're perfect. Where's your bedroom, Buttons?” I ask.
“The next room.”
I look before me, where the small hallway ends with a door. I open it to see a large king-sized bed. It's dark in the room, but I go straight to the bed, tossing her on it.
“Ryder!” she squeals, scrambling to get up on her elbows. “What on earth has gotten into you?”
I walk over, flipping on the bedside lamp as I glance around, ignoring her question. The room is painted brown except for the one behind her bed, which is rich teal. The bed frame is a deep mahogany wood, with intricate designs on the huge headboard. The silk comforter matches the accent wall in a teal, as do the curtains.
I frown, walking over to her curtains and pulling them back. There are two small rectangle windows at the main top of the wall, but with the curtains hanging, it looks like a regular window.
“I think I want to change my answer. Is your favorite color teal, Buttons?”