Total pages in book: 196
Estimated words: 186555 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 933(@200wpm)___ 746(@250wpm)___ 622(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 186555 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 933(@200wpm)___ 746(@250wpm)___ 622(@300wpm)
I stopped once to pee at a gas station, with Rhodes pulling in too and waiting in his truck until I got back.
Frustration pulsed deep inside of my chest, but I tried not to focus on it too much. I’d tried to do the hike. And failed. But at least I’d tried.
Okay, that was a lie. I hated failing more than anything. All right, just about more than anything.
So when I spotted the turnoff for the driveway to the property, I sighed in relief. There was a semi-familiar hatchback parked in front of the main house that I vaguely remembered belonged to Johnny. I hadn’t seen him again since our failed date. Rhodes went for his usual spot, and so did I. Leaving everything in my car that I absolutely didn’t need, which was all of my stuff minus my cell phone and boots that I casually slipped on, I got out to see my landlord already shutting his truck door, attention on the ground as I closed mine.
“Rhodes,” I called out.
“Want to come in for some pizza?”
He was inviting me over? Really? Again?
My heart skipped a beat. “Sure. If you don’t mind.”
“I got an icepack you can put on your shoulder,” he called out.
He watched me as I staggered over, muttering, “Fuck,” to myself because every step hurt.
“Are you sure you’re not going to get in trouble for leaving work early?” I asked as we went up the deck stairs.
He opened the door and gestured me to follow. “No, but if anybody asks, I did help an injured hiker out.”
“Tell them I was very injured. Because I am. I had to drive back with my wrists. If I could give you a review, it would be ten stars easy.”
He stopped in the middle of closing the door and looked at me. “Why didn’t you say something when we were at the gas station? You could’ve left your car there.”
“Because I didn’t think about it.” I shrugged. “And because I didn’t want to be more of a baby. You already saw me cry enough.”
The lines across his forehead crinkled.
“Thank you for making me feel better.” I paused. “And for helping me. And following me back.”
That got him to start moving again, but I kept on yapping.
“You know, you keep on being nice to me, and I’m going to think you like me.”
That big body stopped right where he was and one gray eye was on me over his shoulder as he asked in that rough, serious voice, “Who says I don’t like you?”
Excuse me?
Did he just say…?
But just as quickly as he stopped, he started moving again, leaving me there. Processing. I snapped out of it.
I hadn’t realized until then that the television was on, and I heard Rhodes say, “Is the pizza ready?” It wasn’t until I was in the living room too that I spotted Amos’s head over the back of the couch.
“Hey, mini John Mayer,” I called out, hoping I didn’t sound weird and winded from what Rhodes had said. Or was it more like what he’d implied? I’d have to think about it later.
That tiny little pleased expression he tried his best to hide crossed his features as he said, “Hi, Ora.” Then he frowned. “Were you crying?”
He could tell too? “Earlier,” I told him, making my way over and holding out a loose fist since it was the only thing that wasn’t injured.
He fist-bumped me back but must have seen the bandages on my palms because his head jerked a little. “What happened?”
I showed him my hands, elbows, and lifted up the knee with the torn pant leg. “Almost fell off the ridge. Living my best life.”
There was a snicker from the kitchen area that I refused to take too seriously.
The teenager didn’t look amused or impressed.
“I know, right?” I joked weakly.
“What happened?” another voice asked. It was Johnny coming from the hall, wiping his hands on starched khaki pants. He stopped walking when he spotted me. The good-looking man flat-out grinned. “Oh, hi.”
“Hi, Johnny.”
“She’s eating with us,” Rhodes called out from where he was in the kitchen, rooting around in the freezer.
Johnny grinned, flashing bright white teeth that reminded me of why we had gone on a date in the first place, and then started moving again. He held out his hand, and I showed him my palm briefly before flipping it back into a half-assed fist. He bumped it.
“You fall?”
“Yeah.”
“You didn’t make it to the lake then, Ora?” Amos asked.
“No. It happened right at that sketchy ridge of death crossing, and I had to turn around.” I told him the truth. “I’m not in good enough shape yet to do it in a day, apparently. I threw up twice on the way up.”
The kid made a disgusted face that made me laugh.
“I’ll brush my teeth later, don’t worry.”