Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 164705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 824(@200wpm)___ 659(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164705 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 824(@200wpm)___ 659(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
I didn’t want to indulge him. Truly. But I’d spent fifteen years questioning every inch of myself, wondering why he, too, found me so unlovable he couldn’t even stay faithful. I had to know. That’s the thing about being cheating on. It leaves a scar. A mark that whispers, not enough.
I unlocked the screen and shot Seb a text.
Briar Auer: Do you remember using your brother’s Insta to flirt with a girl?
A reply came not even a moment later.
Seb vB: No.
I scowled and opened my mouth to launch into a tirade, but another buzz interrupted me.
Seb vB: Oh, wait. Yeah. Lindsey Borne.
Seb vB: She was hot AF and two years older. Introduced me to FaceTime sex.
Seb vB: Or did I introduce her? The world may never know.
Seb vB: [How Many Licks Tootsie Pop GIF]
I fell silent, letting my phone drop with me to my knees. My head collapsed into my palms. I felt Oliver’s hands loop under my thighs as he carried me to the couch bridal style.
“You didn’t cheat?” I asked again, this time willing to hear him out.
“I would never.”
“Why did you disappear?” I clutched on to the labels of his jacket, tugging them hard. “I need to know.”
He pressed a kiss to my forehead, and I let him. I couldn’t read his expression. Sad, frustrated, relieved. They all swirled together, along with something darker. More somber.
“Go on the date with me, and I’ll tell you.” His forehead dropped to mine. “It’s time.”
After that lovely debacle, we cruised down to the sub-level parking garage. To my surprise, Ollie drove. In a sensible Volvo sedan, no less.
I didn’t ask questions. About our destination. About our plans. About the past.
Okay, I’d thawed. I was only human. But that didn’t mean I totally forgave him, just because he hadn’t cheated on me. He still dumped me without a word. I just wasn’t stupid. I could do the basic math. Oliver ghosted me, only to resurface days later to start the backpacking lie for Seb. That had to be when it all went down. When Seb messed up his face.
We drove around aimlessly for a while. I glued my eyes out the passenger window, lost in thought.
After our fourth round past the same stores, I flashed Oliver a frown. “Are you lost and incapable of admitting so? Because I have no issue whipping out my Waze app and putting us out of our misery.”
“Nope.” Ollie focused on the road, calm and collected. “Growing up, you always told people you’re from New York, though you never had the chance to explore the city. I thought I’d give you a little tour, so next time you tell people you’re from here, you’ll mean it.” He fished out some AirPods from his pocket, tossing them into my hands. “Here.”
I popped them into my ears, and sure enough, Ollie’s prerecorded voice began talking in his best tour guide impression, explaining the history of all the places we drove past.
My heart broke inside my chest. This was the opposite of gaudy. Neither expensive nor tacky. It must’ve taken Oliver so much time to prepare this. All because he knew I’d always missed New York without ever living in it. I realized, as we cruised my not-so-hometown, that some places called to our heart, even if our feet have never touched the soil.
By the time we parked in front of a red brownstone in Brooklyn, I had to bite my inner cheek to hold back a sob. Le Boudoir. Transit Museum. Botanic Garden. Superhero Supply Store. House of Yes. He knew exactly what I would like.
Ollie killed the engine, just as the sun finished setting. “And here we are.”
“Um, okay?” I blinked up at the home. “Are we crashing someone’s dinner?”
Without answering me, he rounded the Volvo and opened the door for me. I slid out on shaky legs. My gut told me Oliver had chosen emotional carnage as tonight’s date theme.
He led me to the front door with my fingers curled around his elbow. Pots and plants dotted the narrow pathway with vines coiled around the railing. Someone had obviously put in serious hours to restore the place, and it worked. It was charming. Adorable. I couldn’t help but want it.
I spotted pink stickers on the windows. Butterflies and tulips. A small child definitely lived here. Whoever her parents were must have been close to Ollie because he conjured a key, stuck it into the hole, and unlocked the door, waltzing in like he owned the place.
I expected someone to greet us, but we only found … nothing.
Or, more specifically, nothing of importance.
The house appeared completely lived in. With a stuffed bookshelf, fully equipped open kitchen, and Barbies sticking out of every nook and cranny.
I soaked in the vintage wallpaper. “I take it that’s a no on crashing dinner?”