Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 90503 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90503 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Twenty-four hours later, I was gone.
Sighing, I folded the drawing up and replaced it in my wallet. I couldn’t turn back time. There was no use regretting what was never meant to be. Tonight, I’d do my best to put a smile on her face and make up in some small way for what I’d done back then. Then I’d say a proper goodbye like a mature adult and take off for Boston tomorrow. I didn’t belong in her life.
I had no illusions about that.
I knocked on Maren’s door a few minutes after eight. When she answered it, my jaw dropped. “Jesus Christ, Maren. I’m an old man. Are you trying to kill me?”
She laughed and looked down at her legs, most of which were visible below the hem of a very, very short skirt. “You’re only thirty.”
“I know, but …” I clutched my heart. “Have mercy.” My eyes roamed over her body from head to toe. Her blond hair swung loose around her shoulders, with just a few strands pinned back around her face. Just like when we were young, she hardly wore any makeup. Above the skirt she wore a loose white blouse that draped softly over her curves and somehow managed to be elegant and provocative at the same time. On her feet she wore high-heeled sandals that laced up her calves, and I had a sudden urge to untie those laces with my teeth.
Tonight would be a test of my willpower for sure.
She came out onto the porch and pulled the front door closed behind her. “Listen, I don’t go out for dinner that often. I work a lot of evenings and haven’t gotten dressed up in a long time. So no mercy for you.”
I sighed heavily. “Fine. As long as you’re okay with me staring at you all night.”
She shrugged and smiled up at me. “As long as you’re okay with a strict look-but-don’t-touch policy.”
“I promise to be on my best behavior tonight.” I offered her an arm. “Shall we?”
“Yes.” She looped her hand around the inside of my bicep and we walked down the porch steps together. “So where are we going?”
Trying to ignore the thump in my chest, I led her to the silver Range Rover I had rented earlier today and opened the passenger door. “I’m not telling.”
“A surprise? Really?” She looked up at me and smiled brightly. “I love surprises.” The look on her face made me think that no one had done something like this for her before, and I wondered what kind of dickheads she’d dated after me.
I shut the door, then walked around to the driver’s side and got in. Buckling my seatbelt, I stole one more look at her legs before starting the car. The scent of her filled my head. My cock stirred, and I shifted a little in my seat, attempting to casually adjust my jeans.
On the drive downtown, we talked more about our families and what everyone was up to. I told her Finn had a wife and two kids, that my mom and dad were doting grandparents who made the trip from West Palm Beach to Boston often to see them, and that I was perfectly happy living on the opposite coast, although I did like being an uncle and Skyped with my niece and nephew at least once a week.
“How old are they?” Maren asked.
“Olympia is eight and Lane is six. They’re awesome. So smart and funny.”
“I bet they adore you.”
“Only because I send them tons of junk food and presents.” I signaled and exited the highway at Bagley Avenue. “And they send me pictures they’ve drawn and tell me I should tattoo people with them.”
Maren laughed. “That’s cute.”
“I should visit them more often, but I usually only get there once a year. You see your family much?”
“My parents don’t live around here anymore, but I see my sisters at least once a week. It’s hard because we all work a lot. Stella is a therapist with her own practice. She also runs marathons, so she trains a lot. Emme is a wedding planner, so her weekends are usually booked. Plus now she’s planning her own wedding, and the guy she’s marrying has a six-month-old baby.” She was quiet a moment. “Stella also has a boyfriend, or at least a guy she’s been seeing for a year or so.”
I glanced over at her. “What about you? Are you seeing anyone?”
“No,” she said. “To be honest, I can’t seem to meet anyone I really connect with.”
I tried not to feel good about that. “I wonder why.”
She shrugged. “I’m not sure. And you? Are you seeing anyone?”
“Nope. I learned a long time ago that I make a shit boyfriend.”
“Oh yeah?” She folded her arms across her chest. “And why is that? Because other than your failure at goodbye, I remember you as a pretty great boyfriend. When I wasn’t mad at you for getting in trouble.”