Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 112(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 112(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
Christian eased into one of the chairs, set his coffee on top of his carry-on, and pulled his phone out. He needed something to occupy his thoughts and opened the news app to catch up on the day’s events, but something nagged at him in his mind. He couldn’t put his finger on what it was, but there was something trying to steal his focus, and it wasn’t the numbness between his legs. Christian set his phone down and looked around. He had no clue what or who he was looking for, but he prayed it wasn’t his ex-wife or any of her family members. He couldn’t deal with them right now. But he wouldn’t put it past Skye to be in Miami, although her being there wouldn’t make much sense. They’d spoken earlier, and he was certain she was in the city, complaining about the roof leaking of their—well now hers—condo.
He went back to his phone when it beeped and groaned at the weather alert. New York was bracing for a massive storm—the “Winter Storm of the Century” the headline read. “Lovely,” he muttered. Christian glanced up, and it was in that moment when he saw her—or what looked like her. Her being his best friend from his childhood, Holly Saint. They’d gone to school together, from daycare until they graduated from high school, and then she disappeared. It was odd because Holly parents never spoke about her to his parents, and any time Christian asked about her, his mom would brush him off or she’d say something like Holly was just fine and change the subject. He never understood why she disappeared on him all those years ago. They’d been thick as thieves from day one, and then poof, she was gone.
The more he stared, the more unsure he became. What were the odds that she’d be in Miami right now, while he was there, and both of them were heading to New York? As far as he knew, Holly hadn’t been back to their hometown in years, unless she was back living there, and he never knew. No, there was no way, he’d been to her parents store many times and he would’ve surely seen her.
The longer he stared, the more he convinced himself the woman sitting two rows over wasn’t Holly. There was no way the world would reunite them at a busy airport, where they wouldn’t be able to have a happy reunion. There were too many onlookers and eavesdroppers. Christian had a ton of questions for Holly—if that was, in fact, Holly. He opened the Facebook app on his phone and typed in her brother’s name. Elden Saint and Christian were a few years apart in age, and Elden had gone to boarding school to play hockey, which had panned out for him. He was now in the NHL with a thriving career.
Christian scrolled through Elden’s pictures, stopping only when he saw one of Holly. They were sitting around a fire, in what looked like a lodge, and he wondered if Holly used to spend the holidays with Elden since their parents couldn’t exactly close their store down, especially during Christmas time. It would make sense that Holly went wherever Elden played. They’d been very close, and Christian remembered how upset Holly had been when Elden left for school. She would get into a mood and sulk for days until Christian brightened her up. He continued to scroll and then stopped on another photo of Holly in a bikini. He double clicked, so it took up his entire screen and focused on her face: her crooked smile that always gave him pause, the smattering of freckles on her nose, and the twinkle in her eyes. She was as beautiful in the image as he had remembered her to be all those years ago.
Christian closed the app and looked across the row of seats again. The woman flipped through a magazine, looking as if she didn’t have a care in the world. Maybe if he yelled her name, and she looked around, he’d be able to tell if it was her or not. But then again, he could yell her name and look like a complete fool to the people around him for blurting out a random name in the middle of the airport.
Nope, the only way to know if the woman was his Holly was to get up and go over there. The idea of walking or even moving sent a jolt to his groin. He should stay put and rest, but if he did that, he could very well miss an opportunity to talk to her. He had to take a chance and if it wasn’t her, so be it.
Christian stood gingerly, pocketed his phone, picked up his coffee, and grabbed the handle to his carry-on. There was a seat available next to her and although it wasn’t the correct airport etiquette to take it when there were others open, he didn’t care. He had to know if this woman was the Holly Saint he had grown up with.