Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 104081 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 520(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104081 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 520(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
She leveled me with a look, hanging one hand on her hip. “Bitch.”
I held up my hand to stop her. “I can’t like him, Livia.”
That made her pause, her brows folding together.
“I can’t,” I said again, throat thick. “I get hives just thinking about it.”
My best friend watched me for a long moment before she put her steamer down and sat beside me on her couch. “Can you walk me through why you feel this way?”
My eyes welled, and I laughed at myself, thumbing a tear away before it had the chance to fall. “I can try.”
Livia was quiet, patient, waiting for me to try to find the words to explain it. I kept coming up empty. How did you explain how someone left such a permanent mark on you?
I loved James. For nearly two years, he was my everything. I saw a future with him. We were building that future together. I believed him when he told me I was enough, that we were going to go the distance. I believed him when he said we were going to get married, that I’d bear his last name and, one day, his children. I’d built up a whole future in my head, one that felt so solid and sure.
And then he discarded me like an old golf club.
All it took was one event for him to feel ashamed of me, to go from viewing our differences as something beautiful to something insurmountable. He was the first person to make me second-guess my gut instinct, the first person I trusted who proved I was wrong for doing so.
When I was with Vince, when he opened up to me, when he asked me about what made me… me… it was terrifying.
Because I wanted to trust him. I wanted to spend my time with him. I wanted him to look at me, to touch me, to say I was his girl — even though I screamed at him when he actually did that.
But I knew, deep down in my gut, that we were from two different worlds.
And I knew even if I wanted to trust him, I shouldn’t.
After a long pause, I tried to explain it to my best friend. “I guess the best way I know how to put it is that it’s like if you were at a theme park, right? And you’ve heard terror stories about the roller coaster — how scary it is, how high it goes, all the loops. But you’ve also heard it’s amazing. And you’re an optimist, you’re a believer in good things happening to good people. So, you decide you’re going to take a chance, you’re going to ride the roller coaster.
“Your stomach is in knots as you wait in line, and when they strap you in, they look you right in the eyes and say, you’re safe.
“So, you throw your hands up, you laugh and feel the pure joy and excitement of riding that first slow incline up. You keep your hands there, and you revel in the joy of the first drop, the notion that you really are safe.”
I swallowed.
“Only for the seatbelt to break, and for you to fly out at the first loop, being tossed to the ground like a rag doll.”
I laughed a little through my nose, shaking my head.
“You end up maimed, physically and mentally, forever changed. And it doesn’t matter if it was a fluke accident, if the odds of it happening again are slim to none. Your body, your brain — they won’t let you take that chance. Any time you even think about it, you tremble. When you get close to it, you panic. You don’t even realize it, but you’re in survival mode, your instincts doing everything they can to protect you.” I looked Livia right in the eyes then. “You aren’t getting on another roller coaster again. You just… can’t.”
She rolled her lips together, nodding. “That was some powerful shit.”
“Maybe I should be an actress.”
“Nah, you’re too nasally.”
I laughed through the threat of tears, sniffing.
“Okay,” she conceded after a moment, her brows furrowed in thought. “What if you played within the safety net? What if it didn’t have to be serious? Maybe you don’t ride the roller coaster, but you still go to the theme park. You know — hang out on the spinning teacups, get your thrills on the water rides, eat too much cotton candy, stay late for the fireworks.”
I laughed. “Okay, I know this is my analogy, but you lost me.”
“Let him rock your world,” she said, leaning in and patting my leg. “Get your kicks, girl. You deserve them. And you need them, if I’m being honest. I can smell your sex-deprived desperation from here.”
I smacked her as we both laughed.
“That is a dangerous game to play,” I told her. “The friends with benefits route.”