Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 122219 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 611(@200wpm)___ 489(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122219 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 611(@200wpm)___ 489(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Leave it to Nathan Pierce to be packing on his backside and his front. Just more reason to hate him.
“You good in there?” he called out, almost as if he knew I’d found out his dirty little secret. Okay, his dirty big secret.
“Fine!” I shouted, trying to shake off the bashfulness landing against my cheeks. “I’ll be out in a second.”
“Want me to order some dinner? I can get wings and tater tots.”
“Yeah, okay.” I shook my whole body, trying to remove the butterflies. “With—”
“Extra ranch and honey mustard?”
Jerk.
He still remembered how I liked my wings.
I sighed. “Yeah, that.”
I opened one more drawer and found the hairbrush I’d been looking for. I quickly brushed my hair into a high bun and tossed the hair tie I’d pulled out earlier over it.
Afterward, I slid into Nathan’s black sweatpants and his baseball sweatshirt, which I drowned in.
“What’s becoming of your life, Ave?” I muttered to myself before combing my hands over my temple. I turned around one last time to see the wedding gown pooled on the floor before heading out to find Nathan sitting on his couch.
“Thanks for that,” I said as I walked over to the opposite side of his couch than he was on and took a seat. I pulled my legs into my chest and wrapped my arms around them. “And for the sweatpants.”
“They look good on you,” he mentioned. “Want more wine? I can grab the bottle from the bathroom and—”
“I drank that all,” I blurted out.
He arched an eyebrow. “You drank a whole bottle of wine?”
“Yup.”
“Are you drunk?”
“Define drunk.”
“Do you feel a bit better than when you went into the bath?”
“Well, yes. I feel…” I giggled a little and shrugged.
He smiled, and for some reason, his left dimple looked deeper than ever before. As if God himself carved it out a little more to pull me in.
“You’re drunk,” he said. He hopped up and headed toward his kitchen.
“Do you have vodka?”
“I have water.” He poured me a glass.
“Is that code for vodka?”
“You don’t need more alcohol, Coach. You said you were already numb before you drank one glass. I don’t need you to flatline.”
“Flatlining doesn’t sound too bad to me right now. If I could, I’d take myself out,” I semi-joked.
Nathan gave me a stern look and grew extremely somber. He walked over, kneeled in front of me, and said, “Don’t ever say that kind of shit again.”
“It was a joke.”
“It’s not funny,” he scolded. “Suicide’s never funny.”
You’re right.
It’s not.
My hands wrapped around the edge of his sweatshirt sleeve, and I lowered my head. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to…”
“It’s fine. You’re drunk.”
“No.” I shook my head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to tell you that secret.”
“What secret?”
“That sometimes I’m so sad I want to run away from everything.”
Why was I telling him this? Why was my mind buzzing so much, and why did I feel as if I were still underwater, drowning in my sadness? And why was I showing this part of myself to Nathan?
That was why I didn’t drink.
When I drank, I became too truthful.
When I drank, my reality slipped out.
He placed the glass of water on the coffee table before turning back to me and placing a hand on my kneecap. “Should I be worried about you, Coach?”
“No. I’m the strong one, remember? No one worries about the strong one. The strong one worries about everyone else. We take care of others. We don’t get taken care of.”
“I’ll take care of you.”
Tears began streaming down my cheeks as I stared into his eyes. The sincerest looking eyes I’d ever seen. The same sincere eyes I’d once loved.
“I don’t believe you,” I whispered, not even trying to stop the tears from falling. I was too drunk, too heartbroken to even care that I was being vulnerable, which meant I was treading on very dangerous territory. The last time I was vulnerable—truly vulnerable—was with…well, him.
Over seventeen years ago.
Was that right?
Seventeen years of not feeling that deeply with another human being?
Wesley was right.
I was hard to love.
“Why don’t you believe me?” he asked. His concern made my whole body break out into shakes.
“Because.” I wrapped my arms around my body because self-comfort was the only thing I could think of doing. “You said you’d take care of me before, but you still left.”
I saw it—the heartbreak that flashed through his eyes. The hurt that almost swallowed him whole from the truth I chose to say. I hated that I was crying, but I couldn’t stop myself. I couldn’t stop the tears from gliding down my cheeks at an annoying speed.
I was drunk.
And sad.
And drunkenly sad.
His hand caressed my cheek, and I shut my eyes. His fingers swallowed up the tears that kept flowing. “Ave…if I could go back in time, I would’ve never left you. I’ve regretted that decision every single day of my life.”