Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 88408 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88408 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 442(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Except they had. They’d mattered too much. And in my eighteen-year-old mind, his child had been the ruination of any relationship I’d dreamed of with Leo. Looking back, I knew how absolutely ridiculous that had been, to blame a child for the end of a relationship I’d walked away from willingly.
I drove to the clubhouse in silence, not even turning on any music to drown out the white noise of the rain. I’d actually kind of missed the sound of Oregon rain. It didn’t sound or smell the same anywhere else. Rain didn’t make everything look clean and sparkly the way it did in Oregon, like it was washing away all the extras and leaving only fresh trees and sky.
I waved to the prospects on the gate, and thankfully one of them recognized me so I didn’t have to roll down my window before they were letting me onto the property. There were cars parked all over and the garage bays were open, leaving space for Harley after Harley to park inside. I hadn’t really expected so many people to be there, but I guess I should have, since it was a Saturday afternoon.
I parked and ran inside before I lost my nerve, then got caught up in a wave of greetings as I pulled off my hood and glanced around the room. It was like a damn family reunion that I wasn’t prepared for. Women stood up and hugged me as I made my way across the room, telling me how much they’d missed me and how glad they were that I was home.
By home, I knew they meant the clubhouse that I’d refused to enter in nearly three years.
When I finally made my way to the end of the bar, I stopped on my own and gave the old man sitting there a shy smile.
“You’re a sight for sore eyes, lass,” Poet said quietly, his eyes soft on my face. “Looks like that school’s been treatin’ you well.”
“It has.”
“But now you’re home, where ya belong.”
“For a little while,” I replied.
“We’ll see,” he said, tilting his head just slightly to the side. “I’m bettin’ ya aren’t here to see me.”
I shook my head and glanced past him at the archway that led to the bedrooms. “Is Leo around?”
“He is, and he isn’t,” Poet said enigmatically. “Been in his room since last night, not answering when anyone knocks. Might open up for you, though.”
“Probably not,” I sighed. “I have to try anyway.”
“Good luck to ya,” he said, patting me on the forearm.
I moved past him and made my way to Leo’s room, remembering exactly which one it was. Room assignments rarely changed unless there was a new president. I still remembered when my Grandpa Slider had Dragon’s old room, the best room. I’d spent hours in there with my Grandma Vera, painting nails and watching old black and white movies where people broke into song for no apparent reason.
I knocked quietly on Leo’s door, then a little louder when he didn’t answer. After a full minute of silence, I knocked again. I wasn’t sure if hearing my voice would make him open the door or if it was more likely to keep him sequestered inside, so I didn’t say a word. Dropping my forehead against the wood, I knocked one more time and made the decision to walk away if he still didn’t open it.
Just as I picked my head up and started to turn, I heard the deadbolt click, and then there he was. My eyes took in all the changes that I’d paid no attention to in the dark the night before. His hair was longer than I’d ever seen it, longer than mine. His face was scruffy with a few days’ worth of beard, and there were lines at the sides of his eyes that I’d either never noticed or never cared about before that moment. He looked older. Harder. Less like the boy I’d worshipped, and more like a man that I didn’t know.
“What?” he asked quietly, his voice hoarse.
“Hi,” I said dumbly. I cleared my throat. “Hey.”
“Lily,” he said, his hands gripping the doorframe on each side. He looked like he was barely holding himself up. “Did you need something?”
“How are you doing?” I asked, cringing at my words. “I mean, shit. I’m sure you’re pretty shitty.”
“Yeah.”
“I mean, are you okay?”
“Hangin’ in,” he replied.
“I j-just—” I stuttered, trying to find the words that would take us out from under this suffocating blanket of awkwardness and onto some kind of solid ground. “I just wanted to check in. Make sure you didn’t need anything, or—”
“Don’t need anythin’, thanks.” He moved to close the door, and I panicked.
It was the only explanation for the way I threw myself toward him, the way my arms wrapped around his waist in a stranglehold before I even realized what I was doing. His skin felt smooth, like it had all those years ago, but that was the only familiar thing about the hug I was forcing on him. His arms didn’t circle me like they would have before. His heart didn’t beat in a steady rhythm that would make mine calm.