Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 77793 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77793 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
I don’t know if that was a second chance or if I just messed everything up.
But one thing I do know? It’s Echo’s choice as to whether or not she wants to join this family, but I don’t want her to just vanish into the night. If she does, and I know she’d probably be good at that, I’m going to be the one pulling out all the stops to find her this time. To what end, I’m not quite sure. I just know I want to. Maybe I knew that in Vegas. That she was special, we had something in common that I hadn’t found with anyone, and we might have a connection the way most people didn’t have with anyone else.
Why, then, did I ever walk away?
CHAPTER 8
Echo
I was waiting for some sign from the universe, even though I don’t really believe in universal signs, and asking for such a sign is kind of tempting fate because it might come in some really distracting form that no one would ever want to encounter. I knew I was tempting fate by sort of hoping for some inspiration. And now I know.
My heart is still pounding, my palms are still sweaty, and my panties are still damp.
I’m still sitting on top of my suitcase, which I dragged across the door to ensure it stays shut, even though half an hour has probably gone by. I’m a wreck. A tingling, hard-nippled, jelly-legged, messy breathing of a wreck.
That kiss was a sign. A sign that I can’t do this. A sign that there was a reason I felt like I had some chemistry with Orion that night in the hotel lounge, even though I didn’t know his real name. The whole drunk me sensing something sober me probably would never have picked up on? I was right. Drunk me was right, which makes this all wrong.
I can’t join a family and create chaos. I can’t shit where I sleep. I mean, kiss where I work. That would be like making out with my boss. Or a co-worker. Pretty sure this family has a no-dating policy when it comes to things like that. And I’m pretty sure if they don’t, I’d want them to. I already know how this would go.
We would take things further than a kiss. Another and another, and then we’d be in bed together, then one of us would decide we didn’t like where it was heading, and the other would be hurt, or both of us would be hurt, and we’d be weird about it. Then, there would be tension, and we couldn’t just be family, and we certainly wouldn’t be able to work together like that. Everyone would be stressed and distracted. This doesn’t seem like the kind of lifestyle where distractions can be afforded, and there is likely enough stress and then some to go around already.
It’s just too damn bad the universe had to bite me in the bottom with such a sign. Why couldn’t it just have given me a nudge one way or the other? Why did it have to send me to a big old cliff that I had to take a leap off of? That kiss? That kiss wasn’t a no biggie. I’ve been kissed before, but I’ve never been kissed like that. I’ve also been shaken before—shaken to my very foundation, the soles of my feet, and shaken up in the lady bits department. That was the kind of kiss that promised adventure, wild times, experiences you’ll never forget, and maybe eighty-six-point-eight orgasms in a single night.
I’m all for the orgasms.
I’m just not so good with the feelings that come after. Or could come after. Living together with Orion? That kiss we shared tells me there would be feelings, and if there’s one thing I know I’m not good at, it’s that. The only people who ever loved me left me, and the ones who didn’t love me also left me, so…I know I’m not broken, and I’m not jinxed, but I am careful now.
Correction. Sober me is careful and rational. Sober me is saying this is a hard no because no one needs more pain in their lives.
I know a single kiss is a lot to base it on, but as I said…signs. I was looking for a sign. I feel that kiss was it, and I’m going with my gut on this one, which means standing down and taking a different path.
“Echo? Are you coming for pancakes?” Orion’s deep voice drifts up to me, seemingly through the floor of the treehouse. It does things to my belly and weakens my resolve.
Sober me wants more kisses but sober me would never marry a stranger. Usually, I would never even consider something like that, but right now, in my current state, even knowing I’ve spent a year of my life trying to find Orion just to get him to sign those papers to set me free, I still want him to kiss me again, the way he did.