Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76807 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76807 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Brooks came back a moment later, his long, easy strides suddenly faltering as his gaze landed on me just as he left me.
Naked.
Sated.
Happy.
God, happier than I could remember being in so, so long.
“Fuck, that’s a good look,” he said, gaze moving over me lazily.
“Here, sit,” I said, pulling my legs to my chest to make a space for him.
For once, he didn’t hesitate, dropping down on the cushion, then pulling my legs over his lap. Where his fingertips ran lazily up and down my legs and thighs.
As I, well, watched him.
Some part of me almost couldn’t believe this moment was real, that I might just wake up at any second, and this would all slip away from me.
In his pocket, his phone vibrated.
He seemed to reach for it begrudgingly.
“Do you have to leave?” I asked, hoping the whine I felt in my heart didn’t seep into my voice.
“Just Sully being a dick,” Brooks said, shaking his head.
“What’d he say?” I asked, curious about his club dynamics.
“Just asking me where I am, what I’m doing, when I am going to be back to boss him around.”
“You have more rank than they do, right?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
“How?”
“Well, first, I was here before him. Second, I think Fallon—that’s our president—wanted someone in charge who wasn’t a legacy, so he wouldn’t give anyone special treatment.”
“Then, of course, there’s your rigid self-control and eye for detail.”
“Yeah, that too,” he agreed, shooting me a smirk.
“Does it bother you that they all think you’re a killjoy?”
“Not really. Someone has to make sure shit doesn’t go off the rails. You get a bunch of bikers from unknown origins, throw in liquor, weed, and club girls, shit can go sideways fast. I don’t mind being the one to keep them in line.”
“Do you ever have fun?” I asked.
“Sometimes,” he said, his fingers dancing scandalously high up my thigh as he shot me a wicked little smile. “You seem to have fun a lot.”
“Just recently,” I admitted.
“Why’s that?” he asked, head tipped to the side, watching me in a way that said he wasn’t going to let it slide.
Suddenly feeling a little too exposed, I grabbed a pillow and pulled it over my chest.
“I’m living on borrowed time.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Cali
“What?” he asked, brows pinched.
“Promise not to laugh at me,” I demanded.
“I’m not going to laugh at you,” he assured me, turning more to give me his full attention.
“It’s probably going to sound stupid,” I prefaced.
I mean, how could you explain this kind of thing accurately without sounding like a nut job?
“I’m sure it won’t,” he said, giving my knee a reassuring squeeze.
“Every single member of my family is dead, Brooks,” I said, the words aching in my chest.
“What? No.”
“Every single person. Like, I’m sure you have cousins or something somewhere, right?” I asked, knowing that his immediate family was gone, and that they’d never been close with anyone else, but that there were others of him out there.
“Yeah. Cousins and second cousins at this point. An aunt too.”
“I have no one. Literally every single person carrying around my family’s DNA is gone. It started somewhat naturally enough, y’know? Grandparents get older and pass.”
“Yours weren’t that old, right? They passed when I was still young.”
“Yeah. And it just kept happening after that. Great aunt, aunts, uncles, my parents, my cousins, and finally… Clay,” I told him. “Every single person in my family died. And died young.”
“Oh, Cali…” he said, already shaking his head at me, sensing the direction of this conversation.
“One or two, that’s excusable, y’know. The world is crazy and unpredictable. And maybe, maybe I could be more rational about it if some rare disease ran in my family. Or if we didn’t prioritize our health. Or if there were drugs involved. But that’s not the case.
“It’s just been one absolute tragedy after another. Every single one of us gone before our time.”
“You’re not dying, Cali,” Brooks assured me.
“Not technically, no,” I agreed. “You know, the week after we buried Clay, the first thing I did was go to the doctor, demand he take blood, do scans, assure me that there was no ticking time bomb inside of me. There isn’t. I’m ‘completely unremarkable,’” I said, quoting the doctor.
“Personally think that’s complete fucking bullshit. You’re remarkable, Caliana. Always have been.”
“Well, he meant medically,” I said, pretending my heart wasn’t all gooey in my chest. “But I couldn’t shake this feeling that my time is running out, that I am going to be the next, and final, person in my family who dies tragically young.”
“You’re not going to die young.”
“You don’t know that. Nobody knows that,” I said, voice getting more emphatic, making me take a deep breath to calm myself down. “It could happen tomorrow for any of us. Or a month from now. A year. You never know.”
“Well, yeah, that’s true,” he agreed.