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)
“Is it my brother? Is Tucker the reason you don't want to explore this thing between us, Tillie?”
“Stop that. Your brother doesn't think of me like that, and there's nothing between you and me.”
“Bullshit. I believe I've shown you that there is.”
“No, you haven't. You come back into town, and I'm supposed to believe, after years of barely paying any attention to me, that you want me?” I laugh sarcastically. “Ryder, you didn’t even know my name for years. You barely took time out of your day once a month to say hi. You want me to believe it has all just magically changed? I'm sorry, but I'm just not buying it. This is… sex,” I respond bravely, waving a hand between us.
“I guess I'll just have to prove it to you then,” he says determinedly.
“How are you going to do that?” I ask, letting my disbelief drip through my words.
“I'll figure it out as I go along, I guess,” he says with a cocky smile.
“Well, if we're not doing this, I’m going to have pizza," I huff. I'm trying not to feel disappointed as my brain decides to remind me of all the times Emily said he was insatiable, always touching her.
That's not the case with me. Clearly.
I move to get off him, but he tugs back on his arm, where our hands are still joined.
“Hey.”
I look over my shoulder at him. “I'm getting off your lap. I'm hungry.”
“Stop doubting me, Tillie. This is going to be good.” For a split second, my logic disappears, and I really want to believe him—then, commonsense prevails.
“Nothing will be good if you starve me to death.”
He pulls me in for a kiss, framing my face with his hands, kissing me hard. Almost like he's willing his optimistic view of whatever this is to push through our lips to convince me.
It doesn’t work.
Still, with a swipe of his tongue and the taste of him, I relax into his kiss, wishing that he could want me just half as bad as he used to want Emmie. I know it’s a lot to ask for, but if he could do that… If he could, I would find a way to make him fall in love with me.
I know I would.
Ryder
I find myself standing outside of Tillie's work again. My original plan was to give her a day off and plan an attack. I want her to like me. Last night it was clear she wanted me, but I want her to like me. Fuck, I want her to submit to me and that requires complete trust. I need her to let her guard down and let me in. Tillie is so guarded. I know that’s going to be hard to achieve. I’m going to have to go back home soon, though. I’d prefer to do it knowing Tillie will be willing to come see me and even better will open her doors for me when I make the trip back. The problem is, I’m just not sure how to achieve this in two days, because after that I have to return. Green is expecting me back. This means time is of the essence.
I exhale, letting go of my thoughts as I see her making her way to the door. She’s not looking up, so I make sure I'm not lurking in the shadows this time. She still ends up jumping, holding a hand to her chest, with my hello.
“Hey, Buttons.”
“Are you trying to scare me to death?” she huffs out once she settles.
“No way. I have too many plans for you.”
“Plans?” she asks, her features full of shock.
“Oh, yeah, sweetheart. Still, for tonight, I’ll settle for you going to the movies with me.”
“I can’t, Ryder. I'm worn out. Today was rough. I had to start inventory and do all the purchasing, plus the part-time help called in sick, so I handled the front by myself,” she explains, ticking off a bunch of things.
“Okay, so we'll go to your place, and I'll make supper while you put your feet up. We can stream a movie,” I compromise, shrugging.
“Do you even know how to cook?”
“I can fry a mean hamburger.”
“I don’t think I have the stuff to make hamburgers.”
“That’s okay. We’ll stop by the store on the way to your place.”
“You have all the answers, don't you, Ryder?” she asks, tilting her head as she watches me.
“I'm trying,” I respond with a smirk.
“Fine,” she says, wagging her finger at me. “But you were at my house until after midnight last night. Tonight, you have to leave before eleven because I’m exhausted and barely kept my eyes open at work today.”
“Don't worry, sweetheart. I'll take care of you,” I promise. “When are your parents due back?”
“Next week, why?” she asks, looking suspicious. I hate that she always feels the need to be guarded with me. The need to change that lays heavy in my gut.