Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 119476 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 597(@200wpm)___ 478(@250wpm)___ 398(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119476 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 597(@200wpm)___ 478(@250wpm)___ 398(@300wpm)
“I’m a freak.” She buries her face in my neck again, trying to hide from me, but I’m not having it.
“No.” I cup the nape of her neck, tipping her head back so that she’s forced to look at me. “You’re not a freak.”
She shakes her head. “I am. I—”
I don’t know what comes over me, but I lean in and press my lips to hers, effectively silencing whatever self-deprecating garbage she was about to spew.
Nora freezes against me, and I immediately pull away, wondering how to fix my colossal fuckup. “Shit, Pip. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I was—”
“Do it again.” She raises her hands to my cheeks, before trailing her fingertips over my lips. “Kiss me again.”
“Are you sure?” I ask, my muscles twitching under my skin from the restraint it takes not to dive headfirst into her. The last thing I want is to take advantage of her when she’s already so, so vulnerable.
She nods, brushing her nose against mine. “Yes, I’m more sure than I’ve ever been about anything else in my whole life. Please kiss me, Atlas. Kiss me so all I can feel is you.”
How am I supposed to deny her?
Simple—I don’t.
Honestly, there’s not much she could ask for that I wouldn’t give her. The thought should worry me, and yet, as I lean in and once again touch my lips to hers, I can’t help but think how right it feels having her in my arms.
The kiss is over as quick as it starts. Perfectly chaste, and yet, I know it’s something I’ll think of for years to come.
“We need to talk, Pip,” I say, brushing my thumb over her cheek.
“I know.” Her voice is still hoarse, and it fucking guts me.
“C’mon, let’s get you out of here.” She crawls out of my lap, allowing me to stand and help her up. “Is my room okay?”
“Yeah.” She follows me back into my room, making herself at home in the middle of my bed.
I want nothing more than to crawl into it with her, but I think we both need some space, so I take the chair instead.
“Before we talk about what happened today, we need to talk about what happened today,” I say, sounding like an absolute tool. “Did that even make sense?”
She shrugs, and I sigh. Of course, I’m fucking this all up.
“I shouldn’t have kissed you, Pip. It was wrong of me, especially with how upset you were.”
“Do…do you regret it?” she asks, running her index finger over the seam of her lips.
“Yes and no.” I interlace my fingers behind my head and try to gather my thoughts. “I regret it because the timing was shit. You deserve so much more than an ill-timed kiss in a dark closet while you’re terrified.”
“And no because?” She’s sitting with her back against the headboard, knees pressed to her chest and her cheek resting on her knees as she waits for my reply.
The fact that I can still see tear tracks on her freckled cheeks makes me feel like an even bigger asshole than I already do.
“No, because you’re you, Pip.”
She lifts her head, sending a puzzled look my way. “I don’t understand.”
“I think that’s a conversation for another day.” Because how in the hell do I even begin to tell my stepsister, who’s spent the last several years being abused by my dad, that I have feelings for her?
God, what is wrong with me?
“Well, I don’t regret it.” She straightens her spine, sitting up proudly. “I’m glad it was you.”
“Glad what was me?” My heart climbs into my throat, because I’m pretty sure I know exactly what she’s going to say, and I’m not sure if it’s going to make me feel better or worse.
“You were my first kiss, and you’re right, it wasn’t ideal, but it was what I needed right then to bring me back. I trust you. I feel safe with you. So yeah, I don’t regret it.”
I scrub my hands over my face, trying to figure out how this day went so sideways.
“You deserve better, Nora. The best. I need you to promise me you’ll never settle for anything less than that, okay? No matter who it’s with. Promise me?”
Her eyes shine with unshed tears, and for a minute I think she might argue with me, but finally she nods. “Promise.”
“Okay, good.” I exhale a relieved breath, my guilt partially assuaged. “Now, can we talk about the other what happened today?”
“I feel so stupid.” The self-loathing in her voice rivals my own.
I can’t believe I fucking kissed her. She should hate me. God knows, she’d be well within her right.
“Why? Talk to me.”
“I was watching TV, some true crime show one of you was watching earlier, and I got scared. So, when I heard the car in the driveway—”