Total pages in book: 157
Estimated words: 150968 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 755(@200wpm)___ 604(@250wpm)___ 503(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 150968 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 755(@200wpm)___ 604(@250wpm)___ 503(@300wpm)
And then I hear it.
A helpless whimper. A wounded cry.
My heart thuds.
The blood pumping through my veins grows cold.
When another lightning strikes again, illuminating her apartment for a brief second, I see that the door to her bedroom is ajar.
My feet are moving before I can comprehend what’s happening, before I can fully understand why my chest hurts so fucking much at the sound of Riley’s broken whimpers. I make it to her room in three long strides, the darkness of her apartment not slowing me down.
I turn on the lights in her bedroom and find Riley huddled in her bed. I can’t see her, but the shaking mound of blankets tells me everything I need to know.
“Riley.” My voice is gruff, almost unrecognizable to my own ears.
At the sound of my voice, she lets out another distressed whimper. I move to the side of her bed, cautiously sitting down on the edge of her mattress as not to spook her. Gripping her blanket, I gently tug it down. Her tear-stained face comes into view and our eyes lock together.
Time slows.
I think maybe…if I had been stabbed, it would have been less painful.
My breath stutters.
The haunting fear in her eyes completely decimates me.
“It’s me,” I tell her, trying to soothe her panic. “You’re safe. It’s just a storm.”
Another round of thunder rolls through, and her whole body flinches. Her pale face twists with absolute terror, and her hands suddenly snakes out from under the blanket.
Riley latches onto my wrist, her fingers gripping me tightly. “Don’t…” she chokes out. “P-please, don’t…l-leave m-me. I— don’t…please. Please. Please.”
She can barely formulate a proper sentence, as she stumbles into a full-blown panic attack. When another thunder echoes through the sky, the menacing sound bouncing off the walls, Riley squeezes her eyes shut. The whole bed shakes with her violent tremors.
“Please, Colton.”
The sound of my name on her lips…
Her voice is full of fear, but my name is spoken like a whispered prayer. Almost like she’s trying to seek comfort in my name, in me.
As if I am her last hope in this whole forsaken world.
Fuck, Riley has ruined me.
“It’s okay,” I soothe, as gently as I can. I’ve never done this before. I might be good at a lot of things, but I don’t know the first thing about comforting someone. I don’t know how. That’s not a life skill I possess. But still…
For my Little Wallflower—I try my fucking best.
“I’m right here,” I tell her. Her chin wobbles, holding back a cry. “I’m not going anywhere. I won’t leave you.”
In a brief thoughtless moment, I do the only thing that feels right. I know I will regret it tomorrow; I know she will hate me tomorrow. But still…nothing has ever made more sense or felt more right to me in my life, until this very moment.
I take off my shoes and crawl in bed with Riley Johnson.
The moment my body slides against her, she curls up into me. Her delicate softness against all my hard muscles. Her shaky breath caresses my throat, where her face is tucked in.
Her body presses into me and I feel her frantic heartbeat. I don’t know what’s going on in her head, but Riley is trying to crawl under my flesh, like she’ll find sanctuary there. I don’t know how else to describe it.
Ah, fuck. She’s killing me.
Riley still has a death grip on my wrist. Almost like she’s scared I’ll leave…and if I do, she’ll wither and fade into nothingness.
“Stay.” Her tiny voice cracks with that single word.
“It’s okay, you’re safe.” What else am I supposed to say in this situation? Suddenly I’m pissed at myself for being such a stupid fuck. I don’t even know how to calm someone. Jesus, I really am pathetic.
I swallow and then try again. “Talk to me,” I whisper.
Riley tenses in my arms. “W-what?”
“Talk to me…Tell me your favorite color,” I coax her into speaking. Maybe if she talks, the panic will slowly recede in her mind. If she focuses on something else other than her fear, she might find it easier to calm down.
“My favorite color?” She seems confused at my question, her mind still hazy with panic.
I rub my hand over her arm, my fingers brushing over her goosebumps. I don’t like how cold her skin is. “Yeah. Do you like pink?”
“A little,” Riley responds quietly.
“What about red?”
“Red doesn’t look good on me.”
I blink. Really? I think red would suit her. Red is bold and sexy. I imagine messy blonde hair, furious eyes and a red dress. With red lipstick.
And then I’m thinking how fucking beautiful her red lips would look wrapped around my cock—
Rein it in, Bennett.
Her nose brushes against the column of my throat. “I like blue,” she breathes against my skin. Her answer is unexpected.
“What type of blue?”