Total pages in book: 156
Estimated words: 142833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
"He does have a good voice, but he can't compare to the King."
Letting go of his hand, I bring mine together behind his head, pull the black rubber band out of his ponytail, and wrap it around my wrist. With a shy smile, I clasp my fingers together at the back of his neck while he gives his head a little shake, his hair landing in an oddly alluring shaggy mess.
"Why'd you do that?" He asks, his warm hands circling my waist, pulling me a little closer to him.
"I like how it looks when it's messy." His hands tighten around me, and he turns us towards the window where the blue glow of the moon is shining through, revealing his devilish grin in the dim light of his living room.
"I think you just want to steal my rubber band," he accuses.
"It's not stealing if you let me have it."
His smile widens. "You're right. Should I be worried about you hoarding all my stuff? I thought you would have outgrown this by now. You're not gonna start clipping pieces of my hair, are ya?"
Tilting my head, I finger the ends of his hair, pretending I'm contemplating that. "I do like your hair," I tease playfully, but on the inside, I've started to shake like a leaf. I haven't stood this close to him since I was a little girl, and I can feel his body heat mingling with mine. It's exhilarating and frightening at the same time. I slide my hands down to his shoulders, thinking it will ground me to hold on to him, but instead, the inner jittering amplifies. His shoulders are wide and hard, so different from the boys I've touched. Where they were athletic and lean, he's like a rock wall. The solidity of him is incredibly powerful, almost commanding me to get closer, to touch him more.
"I kinda want your shoulders," I say with a light laugh to mask my nervousness as my hands move hesitantly down towards his chest.
He leans his forehead against mine, still swaying us slowly back and forth to the music, and laughs softly. "Unfortunately, you can't take those home and put them in your box. They're stuck to me."
Suddenly I'm overtaken with the notion of taking him home with me, putting him in my box of cherished things and keeping him for my very own.
I've lost my mind.
I peek up at him through my bangs to find his eyes just inches from mine, hidden behind his impossibly long dark lashes.
"I could get a bigger box," I whisper, my heart fluttering.
His eyes open and lock onto mine, and somehow the space between us is diminished, our bodies leaning into each other, my breasts against his chest. I'm not sure which one of us moved or if we moved at the same time. All I know is I don't want to ever move again.
"Yeah...you could."
My breath catches at the soft deepness of his voice and the unexpected brush of his hand across my cheek. My gaze drifts to his lips, so close to mine, but not nearly close enough.
Oh God, I want him to kiss me.
As if he can read my mind, he quickly pulls away from me, clearing his throat as he walks across the room to turn off the music.
"Tor..."
"It's late. We should go to bed," he says, looking at the mp3 player likes it's the most fascinating thing he's ever seen and very obviously not looking at me.
My heart is pounding so hard in my chest I can't find the strength or air to speak. I nod slowly to his back and bend down to pick up my shoes and bag, glancing over at him questioningly.
Wow. My very first cold shoulder. This night just keeps getting better and better.
"You can sleep in the guest room," he says, still turned away. "You know where everything is."
"Okay," My voice is squeaky and strange and doesn't sound like mine at all. "Thank you for picking me up. I'm sorry-"
"Don't apologize, Kenz. You did the right thing calling me."
Did I?
"Could I borrow a t-shirt? I don't have anything to sleep in."
The look on his face when he turns burns right through me. "I'm not even going to ask why you didn't bring anything to sleep in when you were staying at a hotel with someone."
"I forgot..." I say, following him to his bedroom. And it's the truth, I really did forget.
He's just shaking his head at me as he pulls a big black tee shirt out of his dresser, and hands it to me without looking at me.
"Thank you."
Once behind the closed door of the guest room, I let out a deep, shaky breath. I have no idea what just happened, but it was definitely something new. I felt it. And I'm pretty sure he did, too.