Built N Burned – Eliza Hawkins

I usually love the quiet; need that and blackout curtains for sleep. But nights like tonight? When my mind won’t shut off and the anxiety-induced “what-ifs” kicks in? It’s brutal. I flip my pillow and press my face into it, trying to count breaths like every article suggests. I even open one of those meditation apps Nessa swears by, but nothing works. My eyes flick toward the chair outside the window and how he always sands the edges down perfectly for me.

I hate that I still notice things like that. I hate that he still feels like relief and comfort. Sam has always been able to help me on these nights. I try not to wake him as I roll around tossing and turning, but he always seems to feel my tension through his sleep. Whenever I was too much in my head, he was the only one who could get me out. I’ve never judged another woman for chasing her pleasure.

Casual sex? Yes. Toys? Absolutely. Orgasms? Non-negotiable. But me? I’ve never been able to get there on my own when my anxiety is spiraling. Not fully, not until Sam. Ever since we met, he’s been the one who could unravel me with a whisper, a look, a single touch. And now, he’s not here. And I hate that I need him like this. I toss in bed, yanked awake by a restless body and a brain stuck on loop. It’s past 1:00 a.m., and I’ve officially hit a wall.

I grab my phone and stare at his name longer than I should. This is a bad idea, I know it is. But I press call anyway. He answers on the second ring, voice thick with sleep. “Becca? Are you okay?” “No.” I’m breathing heavy. “You took away the one thing that used to help me sleep … and I don’t know what to do without it.” A pause. A rustle of sheets. “Baby …” “You know how I spiral in the middle of the night, how I can’t escape my thoughts …”

My voice wobbles.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. 1kitap1.com/en To the Beccas of the world⁠— The women who carry the plan. Who built the spreadsheet, remembered the deadline, and somehow kept dreaming anyway. This one’s for you. 1kitap1.com/en CONTENTS 1. Becca 2. Becca 3.

Becca 4. Sam 5. Becca 6. Becca 7. Sam 8. Sam 9. Becca 10. Sam 11. Becca 12. Becca 13. Sam 14. Becca 15. Becca 16. Becca 17. Becca 18. Becca 19. Sam 20. Becca 21. Becca 22. Sam 23. Becca 24. Sam 25. Becca 26. Sam 27. Sam 28. Becca 29. Sam 30. Sam 31. Becca 32. Sam 33. Becca 34. Sam 35. Becca 36. Sam 37. Becca 38.

Sam 39. Becca 40. Sam One Year Later About the Author 1kitap1.com/en “C 1 BECCA ongratulations on your loan repayment!” My friend Vanessa Durham says as she hugs me tightly. Nessa is all movement and color—dark curls, dangly earrings, and at least three rings on each hand. She is hosting our monthly get- together, this one themed “Tarot and Tonics.” Every month, one of us hosts a get-together like this.

The theme is “Zentrology,” a fun word created by our friend Mackenzie Burke. As Mack puts it, “Zentrology is the mellow belief in astrology, purely for self- reflection and chill.” We vary widely on how much we believe in mystics, with me being on the lowest end of the scale. Nessa would tell you that checks out, since I am a Capricorn and completely goal-oriented, as well as highly grounded and practical as an earth sign. Then there is Nessa, on the opposite end of the spectrum.

She says being a Sagittarius makes her spiritually curious. As a fire sign, she feels bold but also a bit restless. She believes reading her daily horoscopes helps give her a to-do list or an action plan, but to each their own. No matter our differences, I always go to great lengths to attend our Zentrology nights.

I hand over my drink concoction. The bungalow smells like incense and something sweet—candle wax or spilled wine, maybe both—and every surface has something on it: a crystal, a candle, a plant that she has probably named. Although the host sets the theme, we would never let them provide everything. “Here you go,” I offer with a grin. “I’m calling this one my ‘Cucumber Crescent,’ in honor of the moon phase tonight. I made a tonic water with cucumber and mint from my garden.

Then, I added the gin I bought on discount last week. This inspired the whole drink!”

This is a short excerpt from the opening of “” by Unknown, quoted for review and introduction purposes. All rights belong to the copyright holders.

Book Information

• Unique ID: 445ea5fb6f6aade6
• File Extension: .pdf
• File Size: 4,095,565 bytes (3.906 MB)
• Title: –
• Author: Unknown
• Pages: 274
• Language: English (en)

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• Estimated Reading Time: 432.64 minutes
• Total Words: 86,529
• Total Characters: 472,200
• Average Words per Page: 315.8
• Average Characters per Page: 1723.36

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