Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 69910 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69910 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
We listen to his steps fade. I can literally hear when he opens and closes the door to the house.
Patience licks my palm, and I yank my hand from her mouth because her eyes are snapping fireworks at me. “He totally heard us. He freaking did. Oh my godddddddddd, no.”
“He didn’t. It’s all good,” I say comfortingly.
“I was saying I wanted to lick your butt, telling you to put body parts into my body parts, and telling you I was coming. How long was he out there for?”
“Probably not long. He heard the pop and then listened for screams, sat there for a few minutes deciding what to do, talked himself out of coming outside, and then came outside anyway just to double and triple check because he has that kind of engineering mind where he can’t let it go and needs to follow up with a whole process. And part of that process is just not being able to help himself. Also, dad instincts. He had to make sure we weren’t in danger.”
“That better be true.”
I hope so too, and I answer instead by kissing her.
CHAPTER 17
Apollo
My dad leaves two mornings later, super early. He gets a hug from both of us, even though Patience is scarlet whenever he’s around now. I carefully hold back tears, and he also carefully holds back tears. We both pretend we aren’t carefully holding back tears. And if he heard anything a few nights ago, he pretends he didn’t too.
After he’s gone, Patience finds me in the kitchen. I only just turned on the coffee pot since Dad assured me he didn’t need any before he got on the road back to Seattle. The house feels very quiet, and Bitty Kitty misses our dads. She’s curled up on her bed in the living room, but she did an aimless circle right after Dad left.
“It’s quiet.” Patience uses an equally quiet voice, like she’s afraid to disturb the silence.
“Well, the birds are giving ‘er outside, if that counts.” They are. I absolutely love their chitter. Even the ravens and crows, when they get to their cawing out there, have a unique sound. I love watching those birds. They’re so freaking intelligent. I’ve never found their calls ugly or annoying.
She leans on the counter with both elbows and looks out the window. “You’re right. It’s pretty.”
“Do you want coffee?” I ask.
“I think I’ll have tea this morning.”
We slept in our separate bedrooms last night, obviously. Both of us tried to pretend nothing was happening since Dad was still here. I still thought about her to the point where it felt like my balls were going to explode, and then, right when I was going to get up and have a shower, and you know, do things in there to relieve the pressure, I must have fallen asleep because the last thing I remember was my nuts aching so fiercely that I wondered if it might be a legit medical emergency.
“I can fill the kettle for you,” I say.
“Don’t worry. I can do it.”
We’re doing that thing—being awkward and making small talk. I don’t know how to not be awkward or make small talk, but Patience is braver than I am.
“I know some people genuinely want to be alone, but I’m not one of them. I just want you to know that.”
Wow, that’s so much more than a sentence while I still don’t know what to say. I do make eye contact, though, because it’s respectful, even if I’m out of words and flustered. Patience is always going to be the most beautiful woman in the world. This morning, in her flowy tank top with little hearts and her jeans, she makes my heart stop. To be fair, anything she wears—or nothing at all, especially nothing—will have the same effect.
“I just wanted you to know that. I wanted to say it because last night, I said some things in the heat of the moment, and I wanted you to know that…that it didn’t make them any less legit for me.”
Should I offer her breakfast? Eggs? Toast? Ham? Should I tell her I’m the one who is ruined for anyone else after one single taste of her? Should I tell her I’d build a million mushroom houses and burst a thousand blow-up chairs if she wanted me to? Should I tell her I’ve been falling for her and longing for her in different ways for as long as I can remember? Wait. I already did tell her that. All of it. Multiple times.
That’s not what she needs to hear. That’s not why she’s looking at me with a sudden dark heaviness in her eyes. And that isn’t why she’s focused on my lips.
“Okay.” Even that one word is strangled and gasped out. I need to chill, mellow down, and be as cool as that cucumber that is somehow always going to be the benchmark for chill vegetables the world over. It doesn’t matter that my heart is grinding to a slow halt or that my pulse is all over the freaking place.