Total pages in book: 199
Estimated words: 192134 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 961(@200wpm)___ 769(@250wpm)___ 640(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 192134 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 961(@200wpm)___ 769(@250wpm)___ 640(@300wpm)
I turn in his arms. “Hey . . . if you want to try camping again tomorrow night, we can. We have two nights, right? I can definitely psych myself up for sleeping in the woods. I don’t want you to be disappointed.”
“I’m not disappointed,” he says, his voice soft and low and weird.
I frown. “You look disappointed.”
He sighs, and his hands fall from my hips. “Ruby . . . we need to talk.”
My stomach twists into a hard, aching knot, without my even knowing what it’s about. That is not a good tone. That is an “I’m about to say things you’re not going to like” tone.
I step back, trying to keep my expression neutral even as my pulse begins to race. I have to remain calm. The only thing worse than getting dumped is knowing the person doing the dumping can see how much they’ve hurt you.
How much you want to not be dumped. How much you wish you were still going to bed with him tonight.
That has to be what this is about.
Jesse must realize I’m starting to have more-than-friends feelings. Bet he feels obligated to let me down easy before I wade any deeper into the love ocean I’m already swimming in.
My face flushes hot even as my hands go cold, shame rushing in so fast there’s no chance to head it off at the pass. The best I can do is try to breathe through it as I ask, “About what?”
Jesse rakes a hand through his hair and nods toward the balcony. “Should we sit outside? It’s nice out there.”
I cross my arms over my chest and nod. “Okay. Sure.”
I follow him into the cool, sweet evening air, settling into a wicker chair with a cushion so soft it cradles my bottom like a lover’s hands.
Like Jesse’s hands.
If he weren’t looking at me like he’s afraid I’m about shatter into a million pieces, I would make a joke about it.
But nothing is funny right now. And I can’t handle another second of waiting for the hammer to fall.
“Please, just . . . tell me,” I say, my voice wobbly. “I hate suspense.”
He pulls in a deep breath. “Yeah, me too, I just . . .” He shakes his head. “I don’t know how to start.”
“Start at the beginning,” I say, forcing a lighter tone as I add, “and when you get to the part that’s going to make me sad, stop right before that.”
His lips twitch but don’t come anywhere close to a smile. “You read me pretty well.” He leans forward in the chair next to mine, elbows braced on his knees.
“It’s not that hard. You look like your dog died.”
“You know I’m a cat guy,” he says, still stalling. “Going to adopt a few when I get to L.A. Finally feel ready again.”
Jesse’s cat, Mustang Sally, died of old age a few days after the accident, while I was still in a coma and Claire was awake in the hospital. When everyone thought I was going to be the one to die. But then a blood clot took Claire and I woke up.
Our nightmare had a twist ending.
A shitty twist.
“I like cats too,” I whisper, “but I don’t want to talk about them right now. Whatever it is, I can handle it, Jesse.”
I hear the words emerge from my lips and realize . . . they’re true.
I can handle it. Even if Jesse dumps me like Chad did, I can handle it. And it wouldn’t be like Chad, anyway. Jesse and I were never a couple. And Jesse and I will still love each other, even if we decide never to kiss again.
And yes, I really want to keep kissing him. I would gladly kiss him and only him for the rest of my life, actually. I’d make that bargain with the kissing gods without a beat of hesitation.
But what we have is much more than sex.
We are forever—one way or another.
It’s so clear to me that I follow my gut and reach out, taking his hand, curling my fingers around his warmer ones. I wait until he lifts his gaze to mine and say, “Whatever it is, it’s okay. I’m always going to be your friend. I wouldn’t know how to stop. You are forever for me. Even if you move away and never come home, you’re going to be in my heart.”
Pain flickers across his face. He drags in a ragged breath. “Claire gave me the list after the crash. Right after. We were in the hospital and you were in a coma. Her back was so messed up I had to help hold her arm while she wrote . . .” He swallows and blinks faster, his eyes beginning to shine. “She said it was going to be magic. That it would bring you back from wherever you’d gone. That somehow, you’d see how much life you had left to live and you’d come back to her. To us.”