Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 87536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Yeah. Suddenly I feel . . .
Brave.
Is that weird? A woman with convictions who’s able to make hard choices for herself, knowing they’re going to hurt others.
“Are you here to say goodbye? Is that what this is?” He continues to watch me before moving to the window and sliding open the patio door to let in fresh, mountain air.
“No, I’m not here to say goodbye. I’m here because . . .”
Patiently, he waits, brows rising in expectation for me to spit the words out.
“I choose you. I choose . . . Benny.”
He drags a palm over his face, a rough laugh escaping like it surprised him on the way out. “This is wild,” he tells me. “I was freaking the fuck out.”
We’re still too afraid to touch one another; the hesitation is palpable in the room, but I move closer to where he’s standing to close the gap.
“Trust me, I was freaking out too.”
“Okay.” His fingers flex against his thigh like they’re aching for something to do. “Can I—?”
Touch me. Kiss me. Wrap your arms around me?
“Yes.” I close the last inch.
His palm lands warm at my jaw, cautious as a first step on cracking ice. The world tilts; the mountain air slides past us, cool against my neck. He studies me up close, voice rough. “You’re shaking.”
“So are you,” I whisper.
We stand like that, just touching faces, breathing each other in, until the danger of bolting evaporates. He lets his thumb trace beneath my eye, reverent. “’Cause I don’t want to fuck this up.”
“We won’t.” I smile, feeling more in control than I did before I met him. “We make a plan before we make out.”
Hayes swallows. “What about . . .” That other guy?
My shoulders shrug. “It was new, and I think he understands the situation.” I bite down on my bottom lip, debating about confessing this next bit. “We hadn’t had sex yet.”
I want him to know that.
He needs to know I didn’t jump into bed with someone new the minute he and I stopped communicating.
He nods. Doesn’t comment further, only pulling me into his big, warm body and sliding his hands around my waist.
“I want to put my hands all over you,” he admits. “But I think we should talk first before we get carried away.”
Reluctantly, I step back. “Good idea.”
We go to the small sofa in the room and sink down, knee to knee. The cushions are too firm, and the air is getting too cold, but I’m not going to complain yet—not until we have our serious talk. It’s a long time coming and probably should have happened before I flew to Arizona, had sex with him, fell in love with his daughter, left without knowing what the future holds.
Hayes grabs the hotel stationery from the center of the coffee table and finds a pen. Clicks it open. “Are we exclusive?”
“Do you want to be exclusive?”
He nods. “Yes.”
He writes it down like it’s law, block letters pressed into the cheap paper: Exclusive.
Period.
He watches my face as he says the next bold statement: “I’m not asking you to uproot your life for a guy you met at a fall festival two weeks ago. And I can’t uproot Benny without thinking ten moves ahead.” He swallows. “But I also won’t pretend I haven’t thought about it. About what it would look like. Long term.”
He’s thought about . . . moving? For me?
My heart misfires. “You’ve . . . thought about that?”
He shrugs, mouth tight like he’s embarrassed by his own hope. “I think about what a plane ticket costs and how many weekends we can string together before it stops feeling like visiting and starts feeling like a life. I don’t expect us to have all this figured out tonight, but I do want you to know we can make it work.”
The thought of flying all over the place actually sounds . . .
Terrible.
My throat tightens with something warm and frightening. “I don’t want to pretend either,” I say. “I like my job, but I don’t love it—and Star Lake has always been my home but . . . I love being with you.”
Hayes leans back against the couch cushions. “You know, Layla. I hate to admit this, but I was a fucking coward when you came back to Star Lake.” He clears his throat. “I thought distance would make it easier, because we hardly know each other.”
I wait for him to continue, resting my hands on his upper thigh.
“Obviously it wasn’t easier, because we wouldn’t be sitting here now.” He leans toward me. “And I think flying back and forth would be fucking shitty. Real fucking shitty.”
I know. “I agree, but what choice do we have?”
He laughs. “So many choices.”
I feel my brows rise, wanting to be enlightened.
“How would you feel about splitting your time?”
I’m still not following. “How?”