Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 76227 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76227 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
I could do that with things like moving out of the city, getting away from all the cop cruisers, fire trucks, and ambulances, from the traffic and headlights. I could get away from the noise, from the sheer amount of stimuli that came with living near so many other people.
I couldn't control, though, the unexpected visual triggers. Or the hormonal ones that could make a completely random seizure sneak up on me just because I was close to or on my period.
It wasn't like it had been when I was younger, when I seemed to be having seizures every week or two. I could go months now. Especially when I was careful.
Which was what I was going to be from now on.
Careful.
Not just about avoiding music videos with epilepsy warnings, but about who I associated with.
I mean, I had enough issues without adding on an association with criminals.
So I sat my ass down in my gaming chair. I reached for my headphones. I announced that I was going to go live while I played.
I didn't do live videos often since it was impossible to monitor the creeps, but sometimes I needed real-time connections with other human beings, even if I had never—and would never—meet them face-to-face.
"I know, I'm a wreck tonight, guys," I told the people trickling into the chat. "I had a seizure and nearly drowned in a pool. Everything is cool now. I just need to play for a bit before turning in."
A bit turned into four hours. It wasn't until my eyes were so swollen from exhaustion that I was forced to call it a night. Well, an early morning.
I didn't need to keep any certain schedule, so I figured I could crash for a solid couple of hours if the dreams stayed away. That would allow me to get the recovery my body and mind needed from such a crazy day.
I would have gotten that rest, too, had my doorbell not started ringing incessantly just a couple hours after I finally passed out.
"Ugh," I grumbled, sliding off the bed, tossing my wild hair out of my face as I tried to remember if I had a delivery scheduled. "I'm coming," I roared at the door, small-eyeing it as I got closer, as I reached to undo the locks. "Keep your panties on," I demanded, pulling open the door.
"Well," Huck said, looking somehow fully rested even though he couldn't have gotten much more sleep than I had, "I seem to have your panties right here," he told me, lips twitching as he produced the pair I'd been wearing the night before—which were, thankfully, halfway cute. If a hot man was going to wave around a pair of your panties, you didn't want it to be your old granny ones. Or the ones with holes or weak elastic that you kept meaning to toss, but never got around to.
"What are you doing here?" I grumbled, not being much of a morning person. When I did manage to catch some sleep my body might have needed it, but my mind struggled to adjust to being awake again, making me slow and grumpy for at least an hour after getting up.
"You're pleasant in the morning, huh?" he asked, giving me that infuriatingly charming smile of his.
"You woke me up," I accused.
"It's one in the afternoon, babe."
"Oh, gee, sorry, I didn't realize outlaw bikers were the early bird sort," I said, turning to walk away, making my way toward the kitchen, going right for the coffee pot. I considered just heating the old pot from the night before, but decided to be a halfway decent host and make a new one, so I could offer a cup to Huck. "What?" I snapped when I found him staring at me, seeming like he was trying to hold in a smile.
"Babe, you're a fucking wreck," he declared, chuckling.
"Gee. Thanks. What do you want?"
To that, I got another laugh. "I was bringing you back your clothes, babe. Remy cleaned and dried them for you."
"Oh, ah, thanks. I will get yours back to you. You know... when I'm done with them," I added, waving down at my borrowed outfit. I didn't exactly know why I hadn't already changed out of it.
"Nah. Keep it," he said, shaking his head. "Wouldn't be able to wear any of it again without thinking about putting it on you."
"You're not supposed to mention that," I told him, trying to make my voice disgruntled. You know, to make up for the fact that heat bloomed through my body at the mention of that particular memory.
"No?" he asked, head ducking a bit as he moved closer, dropping my clean clothes on the counter. "Why not?" he went on, getting closer. "Can't stop thinking about my face just inches away from your pussy?" he asked, stopping when his toes touched me, towering over me.