Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 90257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
And that, more than anything, just about kills me.
CHAPTER 34
JULIETTE
“Thanks again for the ride,” I tell Carina, standing near the driver’s side window with my overnight bag in hand. “Sure you don’t want to come in and stay for dinner?”
She shakes her head. “No, I’ve got some studying to do and a piece of choreography that needs work. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
“Sounds good.”
For just a moment, I watch her sleek BMW pull out of the circular driveway before I swing away and head to the house. I push open the heavy front door and glance around the double story foyer before calling out, “Mom? Are you home?” My voice echoes off the cavernous walls.
Her silver Range Rover is parked in the drive, so I’d just assumed she was here. Maybe I’m wrong.
“Jules?” Her surprised voice floats down the hallway. “Is that you?”
“Yup.” I peel off my jacket before draping it over the banister and then toeing off my Converse.
She peeks her head out from the spacious kitchen at the back of the house. “I wasn’t expecting you to show up this afternoon. What’s going on?”
I shrug and force a smile. “What? I can’t pop home to see my parents without something being wrong?”
She wipes her hands on a dishtowel as she closes the distance between us. “Of course you can, honey. Any time you want.”
When she reaches out and tugs me into her arms, I go willingly, resting my head against her strong shoulder. I’m just a smidge taller than she is.
“Come on, Jules. Tell me what’s going on,” she whispers against my ear. She’s always had a sixth sense about these things.
I shrug, unsure if I want to open up that particular can of worms. There’s so much she doesn’t know. So much I’ve been keeping from her. Now that Ryder and I agreed to back away from our fledgling relationship, there doesn’t seem much point in rehashing the situation.
When I remain silent, she pulls away enough to search my face before threading a slender arm around my waist. “Come talk to me while I finish preparing dinner.”
That’s when the tantalizing aroma of beef and mushrooms hits me. It’s enough to make my mouth water. “Stroganoff?”
“Yup.”
“That’s one of my favorites.”
She gives me a wink. “Your dad’s, too. I remember the first time Grandma Karen made it for him. I thought he was going to lick the plate clean.”
That image does the impossible and has the corners of my lips lifting into a smile.
Once inside the spacious kitchen, I settle at the marble island while Mom adds a shake or two of salt and pepper to the stroganoff.
“What can I get you to drink?” she asks.
“Just water, please.”
She grabs a glass from the cupboard before filling it from the dispenser on the fridge and setting it down in front of me. Then she preps a colander of green beans, chopping off the ends and rinsing them in the sink before filling a stainless-steel pot with water and setting it on the stove.
“All right, spill.” She glances up and catches my gaze. “Tell me what’s going on. Did something happen with Carina?”
I scrunch my face and shake my head. “Of course not. I can’t even remember the last time we had a disagreement.” Unless of course, it’s about how I spend too much time studying and not enough going out and living my best college life.
“Is it school?”
“No.” I draw in a lungful of air before reluctantly admitting, “Although, I did get a B minus on an exam the other day.”
“Did you talk to the professor and go over the exam, so you understand where you went wrong?”
“Yeah. I made a few careless mistakes.”
She glances at me. “Doesn’t exactly sound like a problem then.”
“No, I guess not,” I murmur in agreement, muscles incrementally loosening.
“You don’t have to be a straight A student for your father and I to be proud of you.” There’s a pause. “You understand that, right?”
“Yup.” I’ve always known it. They’re not the ones who put all the pressure on me.
I am. It’s one hundred percent internal. It’s something I realized in high school. I’m the one who sets high standards for myself.
Not them.
And I’m the one who beats myself up when I’m anything less than perfect.
As I lift the glass to my lips, she says, “Then it must have something to do with Ryder.”
My hand pauses midair as my eyes flare wide. “What?” My voice comes out sounding choked.
Her expression never falters as her steady gaze stays pinned to mine. “I assume if it’s not school or your roommate, then whatever’s going on has something to do with Ryder.”
“Why would you say that?” I whisper.
With a smirk, she shakes her head. “Because I have eyes and I’ve seen the way you two have been looking at each other.” There’s a pause before she tacks on, “Especially lately.”