Page 114 of Range
“Go ahead, Sunshine.”
He loosened his grip on my hand, freeing me. My towel fell as I stretched my hand to reach the first balloon. I didn’t bother rescuing it.
My nipples hardened. My skin became riddled with bumps. The hair on my back and arms caused pain as they rose.
To my home.
Josiah’s handwriting was scribbled on the first card.
To my loft.
The second.
To my office.
The third.
To my warehouse.
The fourth.
To my car.
The fifth.
To my truck.
The sixth.
To my carts.
The seventh.
To my safe.
And the eighth.
Eight keys collected in my hand. I aligned them neatly as I tried to take control of myself. With Josiah around, I didn’t understand who I was. As a woman who thrived in her independence and took pride in being a forward thinker, I was hardly a shell of her. My thoughts were a mess. I had no self-control.
Of my body.
My mind.
My heart.
“Is this what it feels like?” I asked, avoiding those eyes of his.
They sucked me in so easily, and made it so hard to let go.
“Is this what, what feels like?”
“Love? Consideration? Comfort? Contentment? Partnership? Dependency?”
“How does it feel, Range?”
“Like I’m drowning,” my voice cracked, “And, don’t want to be saved.”
Josiah nodded. “Yes. This is what it feels like.”
