Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 103281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 413(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103281 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 413(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
My eyes finally opened when she moved against my chest, snuggled closer, still sleeping.
She looked so beautiful. Peaceful. I wondered what thoughts and dreams were dancing in her head as I teased the band that was barely hanging on from her hair. I worked it onto my wrist before combing through the silky strands. They were redder than I’d remembered. Aged mahogany woven with wisps of gold. Still as soft. Just as calming.
“Ow!”
Until my fingers caught a knot…
“What the hell?” Startled, she shot up into a sitting position, rubbing at the back of her head. Then, her weary half-open eyes saw me sitting there and her cheeks rose with a smile.
“Sorry,” I said. “I hit a snag in your hair.”
As if the last eight years had never happened, she lay right back down, rolled onto her back until she was face-up on my lap. “There’ll be more than one in there. I imagine there are less tangled bird nests outside than in my hair right now.”
I rested a hand on her belly, on top of her pyjama top, and couldn’t believe how natural it felt. “A friend of mine in Malibu’s got a bird. It’s really cool. Talks.”
“Yeah? I’ve never been to Malibu.” If I could have, I would’ve scooped her up and flown her over there right now. I wanted to show her everything, give her the entire fucking world. “My mum and I went to Corfu for my twenty-first, then I visited Amsterdam with my friend, Chrissie, a couple of years ago. I imagine you’ve been all over.” Her green eyes stared up at me, sparkling with wonder and curiosity…and only a tiny bit of crust in the corners. Using my thumb, I gently swiped the morning gunk away. “Wow,” she muttered. “Sexy, huh.”
Absolutely. “I can take you,” I said. “Malibu. Wherever you want to go. I can show you the globe, Heli.”
Her smile turned coy, and she looked away, switched her focus to my hand splayed across her belly. “Maybe,” she whispered, stroking my fingers. Her touch felt electrifying, the simple gesture stimulating every nerve beneath my skin. As she spoke, she smiled, breathed a soft giggle, but I didn’t like that response. I could hear the reservation, feel the doubt.
“I’m not going to leave, Helen.” Holding her this way, I’d never be able to give that up again. For the first time in eight years, I’d woken up this morning feeling like Hugo, not Hugo Hayes, not some superstar on a pedestal I didn’t belong on. I’d spent the night in an unfamiliar house on the most uncomfortable couch in history and I’d never felt so rested. “Guess I’m gonna have to work on making you believe that though, huh?”
“You don’t need to prove anything to me, Hugo,” she said in a melancholic tone. This was one of those times I was pretty sure words had the opposite meaning. Such situations had got me in trouble in the past, but I felt quite confident with my skills these days, so I’d show her anyway. I’d come back, keep calling. We’d be best friends again. I’d make sure of it.
As much as I didn’t want to, I was about to tell Helen that I would have to leave soon, but only for work. I’d come back. However, the second my lips parted I was interrupted by a Shave and a Haircut knock on the front door, followed immediately by it bursting open.
“Used my key!” A woman yelled, bounding into the living room, arms laden with carrier bags. My body’s involuntary response was to drain the blood from my face, make me feel lightheaded. Panic. I shifted awkwardly from underneath Helen, sat straight on the edge of the couch, mentally told my heart to quit racing, and nervously fidgeted with the hem of the ugly T-shirt Helen had given me…all within four seconds.
“Hope you don’t mi…” Whatever Helen’s unexpected visitor had planned to say stopped dead in her throat when she looked up and saw me sitting on the couch. “Holy filet of fuckmignon.”
I offered a small wave and a self-conscious smile. The bags dropped at her feet.
Chuckling, Helen pulled herself upright. “Hugo, this is my friend, Chrissie. Chrissie, Hugo.”
“Uh-huh,” she said, mouth agape as she padded across the carpet to shake my hand.
I could do handshakes. They were clear. Standard. Both parties knew what to expect. Still, I never offered them first. There was no way of knowing if someone was a handshaker, a hugger or, even worse, a peck-on-the-cheeker, and it wasn’t worth the anxiety trying to figure it out. I’d found if I hung back a moment, the other party usually made the first move fairly quickly. “Hey,” I said, making a deliberate effort to look her in the eye. People liked that, I’d come to learn. “Nice to meet you.” Surprisingly, it was...once the initial shock had worn off. She was a part of Helen’s life, the part I’d missed and couldn’t wait to discover. I couldn’t hold anything but gratitude to anyone who’d brought happiness to her while I’d been too selfish to do it myself. Unfortunately, that didn’t mean I was ready to sit down over breakfast with her and start delving into our life stories. I’d need some notice before that happened.