Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 77016 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77016 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
And I have one hard limit.
That’s not going to change.
I glance at Ben, his face etched with a rare seriousness. The jovial, devil-may-care brother I know seems to have been replaced by someone who understands more about me than I’ve ever given him credit for.
“You need to get her back,” Ben says. “Do whatever you have to do to work out what’s gone wrong between you. You need her, Bray. And I have a feeling she needs you, too.”
Chapter Five
My physician prescribed Ambien for me a while back when I was having trouble sleeping.
I didn’t take it.
I don’t take drugs to help me sleep. I didn’t even fill the prescription. I’ll drink a cup of chamomile tea—which tastes like shit, by the way—but that’s about as far as I’ll go with insomnia treatments. Some insomnia is a fact of life for someone with my responsibilities. So many people depend on me, and if I fuck up, many more than just me will suffer.
That’s a lot to deal with on a daily basis.
So I go without sleep a lot, and when I need a jolt that caffeine can’t give me, I take a cold shower or immerse myself in a cold plunge.
That’s what I do this morning.
Ten minutes in icy-cold water.
And let me tell you—those are ten long minutes.
But nothing clears your head like a cold plunge. Ben calls it forced meditation, and he’s right because all you can think about as you’re neck-deep is not freezing your balls off.
He and I usually take a plunge together or with a trainer. It’s not a good idea to do it alone. Sudden exposure to cold water can cause cold-shock response, which includes rapid breathing, increased heart rate, and a risk of hyperventilation. Alone, you could struggle to control your breathing, increasing the chance of panic or even fainting. You could also lose muscle function or, if hypothermia sets in, you can become disoriented or even lose consciousness.
I’m not the panicky type, and I’ve never fainted in my life. I know the risks, and I choose to take the plunge alone anyway. I keep the temperature at fifty-five degrees, and I set my timer for ten minutes. That’s my max.
Besides, I need this after another restless night.
I immerse myself into the cold water up to my neck, close my eyes, and concentrate on keeping warm. It’s impossible, of course, given that I’m in icy-cold water, but that’s why it works.
Forced meditation.
I breathe in, breathe out, focus only on the air coming into and leaving my body.
Nothing else can edge itself into my mind.
And damn, that’s what I need.
Breathe.
Breathe.
Breathe.
Until finally my timer rings, and I rise from the tub and grab a heated towel from my rack.
I cocoon myself in the cotton towel.
The beauty of the plunge is that the meditation continues for several more minutes as you warm yourself.
And when the thoughts finally come, there’s a moment of clarity every time.
I know what I need to do.
Once I’m warm, I take a quick shower and dress in casual clothes. No suit and tie today. Odd for me, but I’m not feeling it.
Besides, I won’t be in the office for long.
When I finally look at my phone, I see that Skye has posted again. Another selfie, this time right after she got out of bed.
God, she looks good. Bedhead never looked so great on anyone. Her cheeks are fresh and rosy. Apparently she didn’t have any trouble sleeping last night.
Damn her.
She’s fucking glowing, her tousled hair around her creamy shoulders.
Bedhead! Nothing better than the dawn of a new day. #feelingbetter #embracethenewday #simplyskye
Simply Skye.
I sigh.
Skye Manning is anything but simple.
Perhaps I should let her go. Rethink my plan. She’s so young, after all, and if she’s not hurting the way I am…
I take a sip of coffee and look at the post again.
Her brown hair is a wild mess, tangled and sticking out in every direction. But there’s something effortlessly beautiful about it—each strand falling in perfect chaos. Her brown eyes, still sleepy, have this soft warmth to them, like she’s just waking up to the world. Her skin glows with that natural, untouched beauty, and a lazy smile curves on her lips. I’ve seen her like this—completely unguarded and real.
I can’t let her go. How did I even have that thought? I have to try to make this work, so I’ll continue with the plan that came to me during my sleepless night.
…
“Who are you and what have you done with my brother?” Ben asks, his mouth full of scrambled eggs.
“You’re the one who told me to figure this shit out,” I retort.
“But heading off to Kansas?” He shakes his head. “Talking to her parents without her knowledge? Have you lost your mind?”
“If I don’t do what I can to figure Skye out, I’ll definitely lose my mind.”