Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 72853 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72853 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 364(@200wpm)___ 291(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
To be fair, they felt like that all night as well. It’s humid out here, but in my room, I was burning up at the core. Like, literally at the core.
“I know that’s dirt, but there are different kinds of dirt.”
“Oh really?” I rub dirt down my arm. Rick’s eyes widen. I do it to the other arm. The humidity makes my skin sticky and wet, and some of it sticks in blackened smears. The backyard is bright enough for me to watch how Rick’s face pinches and his lips purse.
“That’s too far. I would have understood if Jace just said we should be friends. He went too far. I can’t be close to you. You know that.”
“I don’t know that. And neither do you.”
“Our marriage isn’t real,” he says.
I scoop up a clod of dirt and chuck it lightly at him. It hits his shoulder because he’s shocked and doesn’t spin away. I rub another great big handful over my arm. And then my other arm, my neck, and my face. “If you’re dirty, then I’m dirty too.”
“Aspen! Stop it!”
Exasperation screams in a tone he struggles to keep neutral, but maybe there’s a little bit of playfulness in it too. I get another large handful and throw it up in the air above my head. It falls down around me, landing in my hair and all over my clothes. I let out a whoop as Rick sighs, and then I throw myself to the ground. With a laugh, I spread my arms and legs wide and make a dirt angel.
I don’t know if Rick can’t take it or if he’s worried that I’ve lost it, but he walks over. He stands over me, and then, after a momentary pause, he sticks out his hand. I take it but grab a clump of dirt, and when I stand up, I smear it over his jaw and rub it into his beard. My laughter is way too loud in the night. The neighbors are probably going to wake up, and they’re probably going to complain.
Rick doesn’t react to what I’ve just done. Instead, he lets go of me and brushes dirt out of my hair. Or tries to, at least. I think the dirt is pretty hard to remove, just like sand. He doesn’t look amused. But he doesn’t look pissed either. His face is so calm and controlled. I want to break past that reserve. I want honest emotion. I want the parts of him that he won’t show the rest of the world because the rest of the world isn’t me. I want, even if it’s just for a moment, to be special. To share something with him that no one else has ever shared.
“Let’s go back inside. This isn’t funny.” He says that, but he sounds faintly amused anyway.
He’s so close that his breath fans out against my cheek when he speaks. I want his hand back on me. I want both his hands all over my body. A shiver of desire ripples through me. I lean into him and reach up, bracketing his face with my hands. He doesn’t jerk away, and I can see something break through his impartiality. Finally.
“The only thing that matters is if you want this.” If he tells me he doesn’t, I’ll tuck him into my bed and find a guestroom. Or a couch. Shit, even the floor. Anything.
“I can’t.” The strain is so evident all the way through him, but especially in his voice. He sounds like he’s going to crack. He sounds like he’s going to break down. I’m afraid it’s going to happen. However, I’m afraid I’m not ready and that I’m not enough to put him back together.
His eyes get hard again. He won’t let it happen. No matter how tired he is, he won’t let himself lose control.
“You can,” I breathe. “You can. Do you want me or not? That’s the only thing that matters. The only thing.”
“That’s not fair. This isn’t a real marriage.” He repeats it, which is how I can tell he’s close to breaking.
“Last time I checked, wanting someone doesn’t have to have anything to do with being married or not. Do. You. Want—”
His hands grasp my waist, and he hauls me up against him. Dirt shower or not, smudges of dirt all over both of us or not, his lips crush mine.
I haven’t wanted this man from the moment I saw him. There was no instant, burning attraction. We didn’t even like each other at first, but now I know I’m in way too deep. I’ve been falling this whole time, slowly, but sometimes a slow burn is the most deadly and destructive burn. You don’t know it’s happening until you’re scorched down to the bone, and then there’s no putting out the fire because it has already worked its way under your skin. It’s inside of you.