Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 84533 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84533 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
“I never will, little lamb.” I couldn’t.
We built both the stool and the chair, but I told him we would wait until tomorrow before we finished sanding and staining.
We’d skipped lunch, so I knew we had to make it inside for dinner. I turned off the lights, then grabbed his beanie and pulled it down over his head. When I reached for his coat next, Cyrus looked up at me with watery eyes.
“Did I do something wrong?”
“No.” He shook his head. “I’m just trying to figure out how someone who grew up the way you did is so good at taking care of someone else. And how I’m the lucky person you do it with.”
Was this not something people did? Chosen hadn’t with my mom. No one on the compound had, but it felt natural with Cyrus.
“I’m not helpless,” he told me again. Clearly, it was important to him.
I frowned. “I would never think that. You’ve been taking care of yourself your whole life.” And now it was my turn. “I need control. These things make me feel like I have it.”
“These things make me feel important and nurtured.”
And he needed that. I could see it in the way he watched me. When one of his tears slipped free, I brushed it off with my thumb, then sucked it into my mouth.
He moaned. “Everything you do is hot, and you’re not even trying.”
I rolled my eyes and helped him into his jacket, then put my winter wear on, including boots. The moment we stepped outside, a blast of cold air buffeted us. I was used to it but felt Cyrus tremble. We’d gotten some good snow, the ground coated, making it hard to walk. I would have to get out the snowplow soon. I’d been using salt and shoveling a trail for us daily.
As we were traipsing back to the house, I saw movement to the right. I grabbed his arm, stopping him.
“What’s wrong?” Cyrus asked.
“Nothing,” I said softly, then pointed to the white rabbit.
“Oh my God. He’s so cute.”
He heard Cyrus and jumped away.
“It’s a snowshoe hare. They change from brown in the summer to white in the winter.”
“Jesus, is there anything you don’t know?”
I nodded down the mountain. “How to live down there.”
“You’re not missing much.” Cyrus took my hand, threading our fingers together and tugging. “Come on. Let’s go have dinner, and then we’ll start looking for a show to watch. I still want you to try some.”
I…didn’t want that at all. The internet was overwhelming enough sometimes, but because of Chosen, I understood it was something I’d needed to know and that it would help me.
But like everything else, I would do it for Cyrus.
We took our snow boots off on the porch.
“Do most animals hibernate?” he asked when we got inside.
“Yes. We might see some elk, deer, or bighorn sheep, but likely not. Most will move down the mountain some, to find less snowy ranges.”
“There are bighorn sheep on your mountain?”
I smiled. It was beginning to feel more comfortable on my face. “Mm-hmm.”
My head was starting to hurt from all the…everything. I wasn’t used to this, and it took a lot out of me.
“I’ve never seen one in real life. Are they aggressive?”
“Not typically, more so during rutting season.”
Cyrus pumped his brows. “Is this your rutting season?”
I chuckled, something else I was getting more used to doing.
We made tacos for dinner, then Cyrus asked for my laptop. I grabbed it and logged in to the streaming service I’d purchased, then sat beside him on the couch and watched him scroll.
“I’m trying to figure out what kind of show you’d like.”
I didn’t think I would like any, but I kept that to myself.
“Maybe we’ll start with a movie. Have you ever watched a movie?”
I shook my head.
“Not ever?”
“I saw some in foster care, shows played too, but I tuned them out. The outside world wasn’t allowed here.”
“For no one?”
“Chosen had internet access. No one else.”
“Baby,” he said, and I cocked my head.
“Baby?”
“It’s a term of endearment, like I’m hoping little lamb is.”
I knew that, but no one had ever called me baby but Bruce. The way Bruce said it was nothing like the way Cyrus did. It didn’t fill me with warmth like it did coming from Cyrus’s lips.
“Sorry. It just came out.”
“You apologize a lot.”
“Sorr—shit. I know. Comes from a lifetime of messing up or just not wanting to give someone a reason to walk away from me.”
My insides vibrated with anger. I’d always known I would hate the outside world, but I hated it even more since meeting him. I could never like a place that made him feel so bad, so lonely, where there were people who wouldn’t want him. How could anyone smell the sweetness of his skin and want to do anything other than devour him?