Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 131821 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131821 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
I shake my head. “Leave him. He had a long day, taking pictures with characters and all.”
“Oh yeah, he must be so exhausted,” she teases back.
I slip my hand in my pocket, pulling it out and holding my fist up between us. “I got you something today.”
A small frown builds across her brows, but her lips twitch in excitement as my fingers uncurl, her eyes locking on to the small blown-glass item in the center of my palm. Her lips part, and when she reaches up, her gaze meets mine first, asking for permission.
I nod, and she gently takes it from my hand, tilting hers from right to left, smiling as the glass glimmers from pink to blue, depending on where the bit of light around us hits it.
“It’s so pretty,” she says softly.
“It’s a lotus flower.”
She inspects it more closely, her fingers gliding along the smooth edging.
“The lady said they grow even in the worst condition because they’re resilient and strong, just like you.” Those blues meet mine, holding with an intensity that has my palms sweating. “The petals, they close at night, only to open again the next day. It’s like coming out of darkness and finding the light again.”
Payton stares at the small flower with what can only be described as longing. She tucks it close to her chest, her eyes closing before reopening and lifting up to meet mine. “Thank you, Mason. It’s…perfect.”
I nod, watching as she sets it on the small table beside us, turning to face me in a way that has me doing the same, her head tipping back and smiling a soft sort of sly smile that has my skin prickling.
She glances toward the party below and back. “You gonna ask me to dance, or is that only when the beach is involved?”
Heat spreads through me, and I wrap my arm around her back, yanking her to me so hard she gasps, her palms slapping at my chest on impact. Slowly, her arms slide up, wrapping around my neck, and I press her even closer, bending so my head can rest along hers.
The music is soft but reaches us easily, and we sway to the beat.
It’s hard not to listen to the lyrics of “What’s Mine Is Yours” by Kane Brown and imagine it’s playing just for us.
I didn’t know I was a sap like this. I used to tease my dad when he’d talk to my mom like he was reading from some book of poetry or roll my eyes when he’d refer to her as if she was this angel sent here just for him, but now…I get it.
I understand the feeling of utter perfection and raw need, because this girl, she is that for me.
She’s light and sun and reason.
It’s like despite everything that’s transpired and all the hurt that she went through, it happened for a purpose, to lead her right here. Right to me.
My arms tighten around her until we’re flush against each other, and hers do the same, her palm pressing and sliding along the back of my head. The feeling is so fucking foreign, a shiver runs through me, and I know without a doubt I will never find this anywhere else.
I don’t want to.
I really need her to be mine.
Please, baby, be mine?
As the song comes to an end, I slowly release her, and with every bit of space that grows between us, a weight drops onto my shoulders.
I try to smile as I back away, doing all I can to slip past her without touching her, because it’s all too fucking much.
It’s too much and not enough, and I might be freaking out a bit. I sidestep into the room, but then her little hand presses to my abdomen, halting me.
Every muscle in my body freezes, nothing but my eyes able to move, lifting and locking with hers.
Her fingers are trembling, little creases forming between her brows as she shifts on her feet until she’s facing me fully.
I don’t move.
Her other hand finds mine at my side, her touch so fucking soft as she takes it, lifting until it’s pressed against her chest.
Her heart is beating out of control, not unlike my own, and when she steps closer, my chest inflates, a heavy pounding echoing in my head as I wait to see what happens next.
The hand on my stomach glides higher so it’s in the same place on my body as she placed mine on hers.
She swallows. Her lips part, and she whispers, “Hey, Mase?”
I say nothing, just wait.
“I…I can’t stand the thought of not.”
It takes me a moment, two really, but then her words register. They were mine after all.
I close the last bit of distance between us, my hands falling to my sides. “Well then, Pretty Little,” I rasp, my voice too thick, need coursing through me like never before. “You know what to do, don’t you?”