Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 140184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 701(@200wpm)___ 561(@250wpm)___ 467(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 701(@200wpm)___ 561(@250wpm)___ 467(@300wpm)
Thinking about this makes me feel so fucking helpless. “I don’t know. All I know is she said it last night, and I’ve been fucking terrified to let her out of my sight since. But it didn’t feel like she wanted me around, either.”
His gaze is fixed on me, a thunderous scowl on his face. “What exactly was happening?”
“Nothing was happening. We were lying in bed talking. I told her I had quit her job for her, she asked if I was grumpy. I admitted I was because I haven’t been sleeping well, and she hugged me. Then she rolled away and got all upset out of nowhere, said she wasn’t sure she should live here and… it just fucking spiraled.”
“You were holding her and then she got upset.”
“Essentially, yes.”
“Did you word it in a way that may have made her feel like it was her fault you weren’t sleeping? Maybe you sent her on a guilt trip by accident.”
I shake my head. I can’t remember exactly what I said, but I don’t think it was that. “No, it wasn’t like that. She knew it was because of all this shit I wasn’t sleeping, but she didn’t take it that way. I think she just wanted to… I don’t know, comfort me or cuddle to apologize for the headache, but her mood swing wasn’t about that.”
“So, she’s in your arms. Did it seem like she was trying to escalate things?”
Suddenly, I don’t want to troubleshoot this problem with him anymore. Running through the play-by-play of my time with Kennedy so he can figure out what I did wrong is not something I need or want, but my silence seems to answer his question, and there’s no denying his protective instincts this time; he gets pissed.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” he demands. “Every time I bring her forward a couple of steps, you push her back.”
“I did not push her back.”
“Maybe not physically, but she felt like you were rejecting her and pushing her away. She can’t handle that. I fucking told you she couldn’t deal with your relationship drama.”
“I didn’t—”
He doesn’t let me finish.
He pushes back his seat and stands. “You know what? I’m gonna make it real fucking easy for you. I like playing with Kennedy. And I’ve only played with her during the worst shit of her life, so I can only imagine how fun she can be when she has her head on right. If you keep holding onto this stubborn bullshit and doing more damage to her every time I make progress, I’m gonna stop playing nice. I’ve been respectful up to this point. I’ve been operating under the understanding that she belongs to you.”
I meet his gaze with a hard one of my own as he stops in front of me, squaring up like he’s about to throw a punch.
Then he does—a verbal hook with a surprising amount of violence behind it. “We may not be in love right now, but that could change. Trauma bonds people, and I can give her exactly what she needs in bed. A skill like that can go a long fucking way in making a girl crave you.” He looks me up and down with a smirk that makes me want to knock his ass out, then looks me dead in the eye and says, “You may be the one she loves right now, but I haven’t tried to change her mind yet. You better take ownership of that pussy, or I fucking will.”
Chapter twenty-six
Kennedy
Normally, when Milo comes into the bedroom right now, he moves quietly so as not to wake me up.
He must be preoccupied today because when he comes in this morning—is it still morning?—he’s not quiet at all. I don’t think he means to wake me, but he does. When I squeeze a tired eye open and peek at him, he’s not even looking at me.
He must have been working out. He’s wearing his gym clothes, and his skin is flushed, a sheen of perspiration trailing down his corded neck and disappearing into his shirt.
Yum.
I allow myself a moment to admire the view as he pulls the sweaty shirt off, flexing his muscles and making me sigh to myself. He wads the material up, then looks over at me.
I’m momentarily startled because I didn’t think he knew I was awake. He doesn’t say good morning or come give me gentle words.
Clearly, he’s still grumpy because all he says is, “Come in here.”
He sounds very no-nonsense. It jars me and I push back the blankets, following him into the bathroom.
I stop in the doorway and lean against the frame, watching him shove down his black workout pants. My gaze gets stuck on his well-sculpted ass in the black boxer-briefs he’s wearing.
“Get undressed.”
My heart stops and my gaze darts to his.