Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 86529 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86529 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
I appreciated his honesty, but it wasn’t exactly making me feel better, even if I trusted that his insecurities didn’t stem from his feelings for me. I suspected his issues were deep-rooted, just as my trust issues were.
Our discussion was unfortunately cut short when Kiki and Troy’s dad came back inside.
“Auntie Aspyn, you have to come outside and play bocce with us. It’s so much fun! It’ll be even better with two teams of two.”
Troy rubbed my arm and flashed a crooked smile. “Wanna play?”
Still feeling unsettled, I nodded and followed them outside.
• • •
Back at my house later that night, after Kiki went to bed, Troy and I finally had an opportunity to be alone again.
We were sitting in the living room when out of nowhere, he pulled up a song on his phone. He put the volume on low and took me by the hand.
“What are you doing?”
He brought me to his chest. “Let’s dance.”
I listened a moment and recognized “The Way You Look Tonight” by Frank Sinatra. I raised an eyebrow. “Wait, Sinatra? This was another suggestion from your romance guru, wasn’t it?”
He winked. “Maybe.”
Troy held me close as we danced. With my head on his shoulder, I closed my eyes and breathed in his scent as we rocked back and forth. I didn’t know if it was the way he held me, the music, or the fact that I knew he was leaving for a little while—maybe a combination of everything—but I just lost it.
When he looked down and noticed I was crying, he pulled back. “What have I done?”
I wiped my eyes. “Nothing. I’m sorry. It’s nothing you did.”
“I swear, almost every time I try one of Nonno’s secrets, it backfires.”
“It’s not the dancing, Troy. That was beautiful.” I sniffled. “Just hold me for a little bit.”
He pulled me close as the music continued to play.
When the song ended, he led me over to the couch. “I hate to see you cry.”
I sniffled again. “I’m sorry. This is so unlike me. I’m not even sure where all this is coming from.”
“Don’t apologize. I just want to make it better.” Concern filled his beautiful eyes.
All the doubts and fears inside me seemed to be rising to the surface. And I couldn’t hold them in any longer. I needed to be crystal clear with him.
“Can I ask you a favor?” I said.
He looped his fingers with mine. “Of course.”
“If there’s any doubt in your mind about settling here in Meadowbrook, if you feel like you’re unsure of this—of us—in any way, will you tell me as soon as you know?” I looked down at our joined hands. “I don’t want to be caught off guard. There’s nothing worse than feeling like you’re safe with someone and then realizing you aren’t…that you never were.”
“You think I’m gonna decide not to come back or something? Why is all of this coming out now?”
“Your leaving is what prompted this, but the truth is…things have been weighing on me for a while. And this isn’t only about you, Troy.”
He blinked several times. “I’m sorry. I’m lost.”
“All this time, you’ve been feeling like you have something to prove to me, but I’m the one who needs work. I’m so afraid of getting hurt that I can’t even seem to enjoy the moment.”
“Knowing you’re so afraid of getting hurt makes me all that much more afraid to hurt you.” He tightened his grip on my hand. “Fuck, Aspyn, that’s my biggest fear.”
I sighed. “I’m making things harder than they should be by overthinking everything. But I can’t seem to help it.” Shaking my head, I muttered, “I have a tendency to sabotage things that are important to me.”
Troy frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“There’s still so much I haven’t told you.” Letting go of his hand, I settled into my seat. “I don’t know if you knew this, but I was pretty smart in high school. I always got good grades and was ranked toward the top of the class.”
“That doesn’t surprise me, but no, I didn’t know that because my head was stuck in my ass back then.”
I placed a pillow on my lap and squeezed it for support. “Have you ever heard of the Kauffman Scholarship?”
He chewed his lip. “Yeah. It rings a bell—the name, at least.”
“Only two students in the entire high school get chosen, but they narrow it down to ten finalists initially. And I was one of them.”
His mouth dropped. “That’s amazing.”
“Around the time I found out about the scholarship possibility, I also got an early acceptance to Princeton.”
“Wow. But you ended up going to state college, right?”
I nodded. “I’m leading up to that. We were told the scholarship would come down to the highest GPA at the end of the year—the top two.”
“Damn, that’s a lot of pressure. No wonder you were so mean to me,” he teased.