Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 127991 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127991 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
Thatcher had other ideas.
Arms folded over his chest to strain the seams of his shirt, knees spread, he slouched against what I’d thought would be Layla’s bunk, waiting for me. “Sit.”
The bossy voice got to me. I was afraid it always would. But I forced myself to continue standing. “Did you switch spots with Layla?”
He nodded.
“That was nice of you. I’d love to chat, but I was going to go to bed. I’m tired.” I kept my voice modulated so as not to sound like a whiny child.
Thatcher looked at me for a long moment, then nodded slowly. “Okay, then. Go to bed.”
I hated that I was a little bit disappointed when he gave in so quickly. I forced myself to look away and move toward the bunk. I’d already changed into pajama pants and a T-shirt, so I pulled down the comforter and slid into the bed. When I reached over to yank the bunk curtain closed, my hand hit Thatcher’s warm body as he leaned forward to shove in next to me.
“Move over,” he said in a voice that was sexy enough to light my clothes on fire.
“Are you insane?” I hissed, glancing over his shoulder and noticing he’d already closed the curtain on the other bunk.
“Nope. You said you wanted to go to bed, so we’re going to bed. Move over.”
I gaped at him. “I’m not sleeping with you when my boss is on the other side of a pencil-thin door.”
“Your boss is getting in this bed with you. Move. Over.”
I moved over because I was nothing if not a slut for his touch, but I wasn’t happy about it. As soon as he’d climbed in next to me, I leaned over and yanked the curtain closed. “What is this about?”
He placed his hand on my upper chest and pushed me back down on my back before looming over me. “Checking in with you. You’re so tense you’re vibrating worse than the engine on this coach. You’ve been this way all day.”
“And you haven’t? Of course I’m stressed. It’s a stressful situation. But I’m dealing with it. Or I was, until someone climbed into my bunk.”
He moved his hand up to caress my cheek. My eyes slid closed against my will. “Reagan… I’m sorry for putting you in this situation.”
I opened my eyes to take advantage of being this close to memorize his face—the exact warm color of his eyes, that freckle in his laugh line I’d grown disgustingly fond of, and the scar that looked like a teeny little starburst right under the edge of his chin that made him moan when I licked it. I swallowed hard. “You didn’t put me in it. I jumped in with both feet. And it’s almost over, right? Honeybridge tomorrow, and then we’ll go our separate ways.”
His eyes widened. “You do remember we’re staying in the same house, right?”
“Sure. You, me, and my parents. And then during the day, you’ll be chilling with Brant and Layla while I’m doing the Wellbridge happy-family fuckery. I don’t think there’ll be much time for… us.” I forced a little smile. “It was nice while it lasted, huh?”
Thatcher leaned in and pressed a kiss to the side of my mouth. “We’ll reconnect back in the city.”
His words surprised me because they sounded genuine and heartfelt, like maybe in this moment, he actually meant it… though we both knew it would never happen.
“Absolutely,” I said automatically, completing the bullshit exchange. I wouldn’t hold my breath waiting for his call.
He grinned. “Maybe I’ll show you the view from my penthouse.”
I snorted so loudly I froze for a second, worried I’d given us away. “I’ll show you my view? Is that what you say to lure men up to your place?” I teased. When Thatcher said nothing, I turned to face him. “That was a joke.”
“I know.” He cast his eyes to the ceiling of the bunk, his usual way of indicating that I was being ridiculous, but for just a second, I caught a flash of hurt there that made my stomach flip inside out. “Anyway, I wanted to tell you I was sorry about earlier, with Layla—”
I frowned and poked him gently in the ribs. “Wait. Go back. Tell me about the view.”
“It’s pretty,” he said, like this explained everything. When I continued to stare at him, waiting, he admitted, “It’s vibrant. Full of life and color. At night, a thousand little lights turn on across the city, and every one of them represents a… a person, with a whole life I know nothing about. Makes me feel like I’m part of something larger.” He cleared his throat. “The apartment’s nice, too. Great investment, obviously. But the view is what sold me on it.”
“Holy shit.” I cocked my head, a smile breaking over my face. “You make it sound amazing. I definitely want to see it.”