Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 76227 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76227 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
"You know you're going to have to get within three feet of me to pull it off," he said, smile teasing.
So he had noticed.
I thought I had been pretty discreet about it, but I had been very careful over the past few days not to even brush him in passing. Because anytime he had his hands on me, there was a massive response in my system to his nearness.
Hell, when he'd pulled me somewhat violently out of the pool, I'd felt a wave of unexpected desire wash over my confused system.
Partly because being able to lift me out of water with one arm like that was impressive, but also because he'd been so protective in that moment that he had done something so extra, so alpha.
The cavewoman part of my brain just responded to all that brawn, all that bravado.
I'd felt overheated the whole rest of the day, anytime I remembered it.
So after needing to slip my hand between my thighs in bed that night, to ease the ache of need, I decided that I needed to stay away from him, to make sure we didn't even breathe the same damn air if at all possible.
I'd been careful about it, getting up before he did to get my coffee, heading back to my room with it, losing myself for hours in my games, going back down when I heard him out back working out.
When he did surprise me by coming into a room at the same time I was there, I found a reason to wedge myself next to Seeley or Che or McCoy, just so Huck couldn't move in at my side.
It was over the top, but felt oddly necessary to be able to keep cohabitation without things getting complicated or messy.
"I can fake it when the situation arises," I assured him, finding a little bit of my spine as I glanced back at my reflection in the mirror.
I didn't miss the way Huck's gaze slid down my back, and over my ass, landing there for a long moment until he let out a deep breath.
"So, you have anything you want me to know?" he asked, choosing to make the conversation move away from touchy subjects, knowing we had to spend the day together, and likely trying to make it easier on the both of us.
"Ah... don't bring up my seizures," I said, shrugging.
"Why the fuck not?"
"It's a touchy subject with my family."
"Some shit you can't control is a touchy subject for your family?" he asked, brows lowering.
"It's a long story."
"You seem to be full of those."
"Yeah, well, it has been an interesting life, I guess. Okay, so, the walk is about half an hour if we hustle. And I checked the train... what?" I asked, finding his head shaking in our reflection.
"We are going to try something different."
"Different how?" I asked.
"My bike."
"Oh, ah, really, the walking isn't that bad," I assured him.
"Maybe not," he agreed. "But why not try, right? Might make life a fuck of a lot easier."
"Look, I just don't think—"
"Why not try?"
"Because I don't want to have a full-blown panic attack on a day that is already pretty damn anxiety-inducing," I told him.
"Look, I get it. I won't push you like your brother. I'm just suggesting you sit on it and let me turn it over. If that goes alright, then we can drive down the driveway. If that goes fine, we can get down the street. No pressure. Just an experiment. Have you ever been on a bike-bike?"
"Who hasn't been on a bike?" I asked.
"Then you know the general feel of a motorcycle, minus the engine. I think you will be fine."
"Except for the possible crashing and becoming splattered all over the highway."
"We'll go slow. You allotted enough time for walking, so we can do a real slow cruise. You need me to do ten miles an hour, we can do that."
He made it sound really possible, really reasonable, like something I maybe should have thought of years ago while I struggled to live a normal life while avoiding anything resembling a vehicle.
"At any point between the clubhouse and the train station, you can tell me to stop, and we can walk. One of the other guys can pick up my bike. It's not a problem. We can just give it a try, right? No harm done."
"I guess,"I agreed, still not convinced it was a good idea to try it on the day we needed to be somewhere, and I had to have my guards up.
"All you gotta do is say stop, and it's over," he added, gaze holding mine in the mirror. Huck was not, from what I could gather, the kind of man who was prone to reassurances, so it was sweet that he was trying to give some to me.
"Okay," I agreed, letting out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. "God, my family is going to love this. Me showing up on a motorcycle. What will the neighbors think?" I said, rolling my eyes.