Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 115263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 576(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 576(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
“Bummer,” Katelyn said. “Maybe we can get together some time.”
“Definitely.” Andrew tucked his arm around Ana’s waist, and I stood and stared. I knew what that waist felt like between my palms. How my thumbs rested right outside her belly button as I held her above me, thrusting up in her. I knew what it felt like when I held her while we danced. I knew what it tasted like.
I stood helplessly, in too much shock to do anything but stare. The alcohol muddled my brain and she lifted her hand to say goodbye. She didn’t intend for me to see the way it trembled, but I did. “See you around, Kev.”
Her eyes didn’t leave mine as she walked past me, only letting go when she got too far. But even then, she glanced back before walking out the door.
Watching her disappear through the door slammed me with memories. The one where I sat on Isaac’s patio and watched her disappear into the house, not knowing it would be the last time I saw her. Her note asking me to leave her alone. All of it hit me with an icy blast, freezing me to the spot. She’s gone. My stomach clenched, the past tying it up in knots.
I didn’t know how long I stared at the door, but when my name was called, Katelyn was gone and the beer I brought up to my lips was warm.
“Earth to Kev.” Will waved his hand in front of my face and I blinked to bring him into focus. “Dude, you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
I had. The ghost of my past. It haunted me.
Why was she there? Visiting? I’d never seen her before when she came home. How long would she stay? Where was she staying?
Why hadn’t I asked any of those questions?
Why hadn’t I apologized?
What if I didn’t get another chance to beg for forgiveness like I’d been thinking of doing for three years?
My glass hit the bar with a thunk and my legs were moving before I realized what I was doing. Bobbing and weaving, I made my way through the crowd as quickly as possible, hoping she was still outside. My legs felt numb and loose, the ground swaying in front of me.
The cold air hit me as I burst through the door, but didn’t slow me down. Glancing side to side, I didn’t see her. I couldn’t find her blond hair or white dress. On a split-second decision, I turned left and began jogging down the street hoping to catch her. One street light after another, scanning every side street until my toe clipped the uneven pavement causing me to stumble. Reaching out to the lamp post, I steadied myself.
My breath sawed in and out of my chest, large puffs of air releasing into the cold night. Turning in a full circle, I dug my fingers into my hair scanning every bench, looking as far as the light would let me.
People stared at the crazy man who was stumbling through the streets past midnight with wide panicked eyes. I didn’t care. I needed all my attention to focus my blurry gaze and find her.
I had to see her.
I had to see her.
I had to see her.
I had to apologize. She needed to know how sorry I was. How much I regretted every mistake of that night more than three years ago.
A shiver wracked my body and the cold finally began to penetrate my focus. Rubbing my arms, I looked around again and realized I’d managed to make it five blocks from the bar.
“Fuck!” I shouted, digging my hands into my hair again and pulling. “Fuck.” People were giving me wide berth in case I was some psycho. I felt like one. Dragging my hand down from my head, I ran it across my mouth and admitted defeat.
What if I’d missed her? What if I missed my one chance to make it right, to get my friend back? My body sagged, the alcohol making me tired.
Somehow, I managed to make my way back to the bar. I didn’t look at anyone as I stumbled in and snagged my jacket. Thankfully, no one noticed me or stopped me to ask what the hell was wrong.
I called a cab and got myself home, only to fall into my bed and replay the night over and over again, beating myself up for all the things I could’ve done differently.
Her whispered “hi” played on repeat until, finally, my body gave out and I fell asleep.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Ana
“Have you had any issues finding your way around campus? Did I do a good job giving you a tour?” Andrew asked as he walked me to class.
“I’m doing okay. Probably because I had the best tour guide the university had to offer.”
He flipped his imaginary hair dramatically. “What can I say? Maybe I’m missing my calling as a tour guide to become a lawyer.”