Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 93806 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93806 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
I push the door wide open and walk to the middle of the sidewalk, looking in both directions briefly. I’m not ready to give up, but I need to give this plan some serious consideration. If she’s not going to talk to me, what’s the point in sleeping at her doorstep?
I glance up at her window and see the curtain fall to the side. Charlie! That sneak! She is home.
My first instinct is to run back up there and bang on her door until she lets me in. But my second is to let her think she’s deterred me. Then I’ll return tomorrow and every day after until she agrees to talk to me. I know she cares, or she wouldn’t have bothered with the note and wouldn’t be spying on me from her window. I leave, shoving my hands into my pockets, and head toward the subway. I need more sleep and fuel to put this pester-her-until-she-talks-to-me plan into action.
I’ll play to her weaknesses, and I’ll get the girl back.
Chapter 30
Charlie B
He’s shadowing me. Why? Why can’t he just get the message? I’ve been pretty clear that I do not want to see Charlie, yet it seems he’s always around. I see him even more than before. Doesn’t he have New York observations or quirks to write about? What happened to him writing a novel? What happened to all I said the other day? Was I not clear?
It’s been two weeks, and I still haven’t caved to my craving to hear his voice. I want to. Sometimes I call Rachel just so I don’t call him. I may not be talking to him, but I sure am seeing him everywhere.
Not only that, but it’s scorching outside, and he’s wearing T-shirts. Short-sleeved T-shirts! It’s all very distracting, especially when I’m not supposed to be focusing on him at all. Some of the shirts are more fitted across his chest, and some are tighter around his biceps. Has he been working out? Where did that tan come from? He’s distracting. He shouldn’t look this good—it’s annoying.
He’s been coming to my work and waiting on the sidewalk near the building’s entrance. I didn’t expect to see him the first time I strolled out the lobby doors, then bam! There he was next to a giant potted ficus tree.
He was leaning against the potted plant like he had every right to be there, sunglasses on, worn and soft-looking T-shirt with a beer logo, jeans that fit just right, and sneakers. Cool sneakers, though, not like the ones people jog in or buy for show. Sneakers that said he cared about what he wore but didn’t put too much effort into the fact. He’s just completely distracting.
Someone bumped into me as I stood frozen in my spot, reminding me to move out of the flow of pedestrian traffic. Slowly walking forward, I put my sunglasses on and took a right down the sidewalk. I pretended I hadn’t seen him, but I could feel his presence, his nearness. Risking a glance over my shoulder, I saw him about ten feet back with several people separating us.
I stopped and moved to the side, looking back once more. He came closer, tentative, until he was right there, right in front of me. He was bumped from behind, and then we were touching, just briefly, but we were. Scenarios of kissing him in the middle of the sidewalk during rush hour flitted through my head, but then I remembered we couldn’t, and I sighed.
Just when I turned to leave, he said, “Don’t go.”
I closed my eyes and straightened my shoulders back. Taking a deep breath, I opened them and walked back into the flow of people. He stayed there until I couldn’t see him any longer.
My heart was hurting, but my resolve was strong. This was the right thing to do.
An interesting thing I have discovered about Charlie is how persistent he is, even at the risk to himself. It made no sense why he showed up every day for the following two weeks. It made no sense to see him reading a book on a bench across from my apartment last Saturday. Doesn’t he have anything better to do with his time, like play video games or roll around in his family’s money? He makes no sense to me, and that intrigues me more than anything.
Today, I’ve decided I’m going to talk to him and ask him to leave me alone. I step off the elevator and hide behind the security guard’s desk in the middle of the lobby. This spot gives me a great vantage point where I can see him before he sees me. Yeah, I learned my lesson the second time he showed up. I didn’t like the surprise from the previous day, which left me flustered. So I’ve been more prepared for the past two weeks.