Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 84322 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84322 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
My eyes were still on Tyler’s back, my heart still in my throat.
But Morgan grabbed my hand and tugged me toward the stage, ripping one of the microphones off the stand for herself and thrusting the other unoccupied one into my hand.
By the chorus, I was singing and dancing again.
And Tyler was nowhere to be found.
The hot, white flames of the bonfire licked at the cool night sky as I wrapped my jacket tighter around me, trying to sip on the beer in my hand, but grimacing every time I managed a gulp. I’d gone too hard, too fast at the karaoke bar, and now I was dancing between being too drunk or being hungover way too early — depending on how the rest of this night went.
I’d had a blast at the bar, but once we’d loaded back on the party bus to head back to the Wagner’s for the afterparty, I’d started slipping.
And I kept going back to my earlier thoughts about me and Morgan and Tyler and the day that everything changed.
I sighed, taking a sip of the bitter beer in my hand as I stared at the fire like it held all the answers. Only about half of the people who’d been at the bar made it to the fire, the other half surrendering early because they were too tired or too drunk or a combination of both. Aunt Laura had been the latter, which was a sight for me to see since she’d always been so careful and restrained while I was growing up. She was so young when she took me in, and I wondered if she felt like she had to grow up faster to be a good example for me.
She was asleep upstairs in one of the many guest rooms, along with the others who couldn’t drive. Morgan’s parents had turned in after one beer around the fire, and now it was just a small group of us, mostly Morgan’s friends from college and Oliver’s handful of buddies who’d shown up early for the pre-wedding shenanigans.
Morgan was telling an animated story about the first time she and Oliver got into an argument — over which jelly was better, strawberry or grape — when a yawn stretched my mouth open wide. I covered it with my hand, shaking my head against the growing fatigue, and then there was a chuckle behind me.
I turned and looked over my shoulder, finding a body I knew all too well.
We’d all dressed up for the occasion, and seeing Tyler in dark, slim-fitting slacks and a black turtleneck paired with a charcoal sports jacket that cut him at all the right angles was enough to make my mouth go dry. He held a glass of whiskey in one hand, and the other was in his pocket. I followed the lean lines of his body up until our eyes met, his highlighted by the fire, and a smirk bloomed on his face.
“It’s only midnight,” he said simply, but I heard the insinuation in his voice. He was making fun of me for yawning, just like he’d given me a hard time for going to bed early the first night I got here.
If only he knew he was the reason I had needed to get away…
I frowned. “Thanks for the time check.”
Before I could fully roll my eyes and turn around to face the fire again, the hand he had in his pockets slipped out and gently gripped my shoulder, stopping me.
I glanced up at his face, studying the unreadable expression there.
“Walk with me?”
He nodded toward the lake, and I looked at it briefly before I looked up at him again. Tyler must have read the uncertainty in my gaze, because he relaxed his stance, taking his hand from my shoulder and slipping it into his pocket again. “You’re falling asleep sitting here,” he pointed out. “Take a walk, get the blood moving. I’ll grab you a new beer.”
“Actually,” I said, standing to join him. I pointed to the glass in his hand. “Can I get one of those?”
His grin climbed, and he nodded with a salute, making his way over to the drinks table Morgan’s parents had set up for the party.
I turned, listening to the last bit of Morgan’s story before Oliver started chiming in with his side. I smiled at their playful banter, glancing around the fire at all the people who loved them enough to take two weeks off from their lives and fly or drive to Bridgechester, New Hampshire. A few minutes later, Tyler returned with a glass of whiskey for me and a new one for him.
And against logic, I walked with him.
We were both quiet, sipping our whiskey and watching the lake before us get closer and closer as we left the bonfire behind. The voices and laughter faded steadily, and then it was just the grass and leaves crunching softly under our feet, the gentle waves of the lake hitting the shore, the calmness of our breaths.