Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 81317 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81317 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Deciding that the idea of being able to ring in a new year properly with him did actually somehow trump cuddling in bed, I reached for the shirt and dragged it on, taking his hand when he offered it to me, and walking out into the main space of the house again.
"Turn on the station," he demanded as he veered off into the kitchen to get the champagne and wands. "I had been avoiding that shit like the plague," he told me when I sat down on the couch to see a rerun of Casino Royale on the screen.
"Bond, huh?"
"I like Craig's version," he told me, handing me my champagne flute, then moving to sit next to me, reaching to grab my thighs and pull them over his.
"Me too. Somewhat less of a misogynist," I agreed, flicking over to see Times Square. We had ten minutes to spare. "So..." I said after a few minutes of silence, just watching the announcers on TV try not to seem mildly drunk and freezing cold.
"So?" he prompted when I didn't go on.
"How soon after this nonsense do you think we can venture out to Sbarro's?" At his raised brow, I shrugged. "I didn't have dinner," I explained. "I was pretty sure I was about to be crying over a slice as I waited for the train back to Navesink Bank. But now that I'm not, I kinda still want it anyway."
His face fell a little at that comment as his hand moved out to brush my hair behind my ear. "I can be a dick at times, babe, but I don't want you crying over pizza because of me."
A little uncomfortable with the intensity I saw in his eyes, I shrugged. "I am not much of a cryer," I deflected. "I guess I just kinda like you," I added, giving him a small smile.
"Yeah?" he asked, his own lips tipping up. "Well, that is convenient because I guess I kinda like you too."
There was no denying the strange heart-squeeze sensation I had at his words, making me scoot forward, resting my head on his chest as his hand went to my thigh, and we watched on TV as everyone outside, just a few floors below us, hyped up for the start of a new year.
We weren't cheesy.
We didn't count.
At least not out loud.
But the second the ball dropped and the sign above lit up with the new year date, Quin's hand left my thigh to find my chin, tipping it up. "Happy New Year, babe," he said, finger stroking up my jaw.
"Happy New Year," I told him back.
And I was still smiling when his lips closed over mine.
It was by far the best New Year I had ever spent.
And my gut was telling me that was because of the person I had spent it with, the person I hoped I would spend many more New Years Eves with.
EPILOGUE
Quin - 1 day
I couldn't remember the last time I woke up with a woman beside me in bed. And I was pretty damn sure that even when I had in the past, I had never felt this strange, almost overwhelming feeling of rightness in my gut at seeing her there, her dark hair spread over the pillowcases, her eyelashes resting softly on her porcelain skin.
Supplies aside, I honestly didn't think she was going to show up. I had accepted that I would be spending the night watching Bond movies, drinking too much, and trying to drown the idea that I wanted her there with me.
When there was a knock at the door, I figured it was for the people next door who seemed to be having a dinner party, and two other sets of guests had mistakingly knocked on my door already.
But then there she was.
And she was angry at me for assuming shit.
Which, to be honest, was the right reaction.
She was right. I had jumped to conclusions and sulked away like some heartsick teenager too chickenshit to confront her about it.
Hell, I should have known it was just Fenway being Fenway.
I had just been building up our reunion for too long, had all these fucking sappy ideas about how it was going to go, and seeing her with him had felt like a gut-punch.
But by being a pussy, I had not only sent myself into a mood for days that had everyone in the office walking on eggshells around me - even the usually fearless Jules. And I had hurt Aven.
Even watching her in my bed, the blankets pooled around her breasts, her breathing slow and even, her hand still on my hip from when she had rolled off my chest sometime in the early morning, but reached out to keep contact, I was almost having a hard time coming to grips with the fact that I had delayed my access to this by being a stubborn ass for days.