A Savage Game of Love by Ellie R. Hunter

A Savage Game of Love by Ellie R. Hunter

Author:Ellie R. Hunter [Hunter, Ellie R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-08-01T16:00:00+00:00


Chapter Seventeen

Liam

Walking into the living room, I dodge the floorboard that creaks. Gabriella is still sleeping on the couch, curled up under the blanket I brought down a while ago. It was late after we watched half of my shows on YouTube, and when I turned off the laptop, she was asleep beside me.

Maybe I should’ve woken her and taken her home, but I couldn’t bring myself to do so. No, that’s wrong—I didn’t want to.

She’s always on guard around me, and watching her sleep like a fucking stalker, I got to see that she’s even more beautiful when she isn’t watching everything I say and do, waiting for me to shift her life down shit street again.

Her breath comes slow and relaxed.

She’s lying on a bed, crisp white sheets just barely covering her breasts. Her chest rising and falling evenly as I watch her…

Then the vision of her is gone, and she’s tucked under the black blanket I covered her with. Was that a memory?

Stumbling onto the nearest chair, I lean forward and hang my head in my hands, tugging at my hair. Hope springs in the middle of my chest, causing me to feel lightheaded.

Knowing that it had to have been a memory coming back, I clear my mind and wait. The doctor told me not to force anything, but that’s easier said than done.

Nothing comes to me. Opening my eyes, I sit back, make myself comfortable, and watch her sleep for hours.

Her strength is what I admire the most about her. She’s been left with no choice but to be strong.

When her eyes finally flutter open, I see the moment it hits her that she’s not at home in her own bed.

She jerks up, looking around wide-eyed until she sees me.

“How long have you been sitting there?” she asks, rearranging the blanket around her lap.

“Not long,” I lie.

“Can’t you sleep?”

“No.”

My mouth opens to tell her about the possible memory, but nothing comes out. I could be wrong. It could’ve been my imagination playing tricks on me.

“What time is it?”

“Just after six.”

“I should go. Can you drive me home, or shall I call a cab?”

“I’ll drive you.”

Eight minutes.

That’s all the time it takes from her opening her eyes and us getting into the car.

The sun is fighting to come out from behind the clouds as I park in front of her house. The radio plays softly, but I would’ve preferred her to talk about anything, just so I could hear her speak.

“Maybe next time we meet up, we don’t go so deep?”

“What do you suggest?”

She shrugs, and suggests, “Maybe we could go for a drink?”

“I’d like that.”

Unclipping her belt, she climbs out of the car, and I wait until she’s in the house before I pull away. There’s one place I need to go, and I don’t particularly care if it’s early or not.

I press the doorbell at Callum and Alice’s house ten minutes later, and press it again in case they’re still asleep.

The door is thrown open, and my best friend since kindergarten glares at me.



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