Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 67801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 339(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 339(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
“Is it yours?”
“The ball? Yes, I—oh, I think I found it.” I tossed him a quick smile as I groped around the bottom of the box and pulled out…a dried-up tube of superglue. “Crap. We’ll have to go to the drug store for your cyanide.”
“Cyanoacrylate.”
“That’s it. I promise it won’t take long. In fact, I’ll buy you coffee afterward. We can sip lattes while we wait for the glue to dry.”
“Thank you, but that’s really not necessary.”
“I insist.” I shut the hatch, turning toward him as I locked my SUV with my key fob. He met my gaze, though his pronounced squint indicated he couldn’t see me well.
Thomas pushed his mangled glasses to the bridge of his nose and somehow managed to look fierce as hell. Call me crazy, but the steely professorial armor under his rumpled façade was hot. Very hot. I wouldn’t mind climbing him like a tree, mussing his newly shorn locks, licking his lips, and—
“It was nice to meet you, Noah.”
Screech!
He offered a vague smile and turned away.
Shit.
I watched his retreating form, admiring his broad shoulders while berating myself for being such an idiot. But I let him go. I had to. It was a free world, and he was a big boy. He certainly didn’t have to listen to me. It was just a little worrisome that he’d risk life and limb and walking into walls—
Bam! He collided with the side of the bank building.
“Are you okay?” I asked, racing to his side.
Thomas winced, rubbing his elbow. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Listen, I know you’re probably very frustrated and maybe even angry with me too and I don’t blame you, but you have to let me help and—”
“I’m not angry,” he interrupted. “I’ve inconvenienced you enough, and I can manage from here.”
“You can’t see, Professor. And we have a quest now.” I raised my fist like a valiant vigilante. “We shall right this wrong, join the two halves, and once again, let freedom reign!”
Thomas smiled. It was a mere twitch of the lips, but that counted too. “That’s…ridiculous.”
“You’ll find that I am rather ridiculous.” I slipped my arm through his, releasing him when he hissed in pain. “Sorry. Just…hold my hand.”
“My palms are clammy.”
“I don’t mind. Come on.” I laced my fingers with his and tugged.
We walked hand and hand through the parking lot and down the block to the drug store. I resumed random chatter about well…whatever randomness popped into my head. The adorable chihuahua wearing a pink sweater… “OMG, she’s the cutest!” The potted tulips in front of the dry cleaner… “So pretty. They always remind me of spring.”
Thomas didn’t participate in my commentary, but he visibly relaxed. And by the time we found the super adhesives in aisle five, he seemed more like the adorable professor who’d given his expert input regarding my merman’s bulge. Sue me, I liked that guy.
I pointed at the row of glue and told him to pick one.
“Any of them are fine,” Thomas replied.
“Are they all the same?”
“Basically, yes. The primary ingredient in all of them is ethyl-2 cyanoacrylate, an acrylic resin, with a pinch of hydroquinone and sulfonic acid. There are various custom formulations, but they all have the same function.”
“To stick to stuff?” I guessed, diligently reading the contents of three. I chose the one with the blue packaging…just because. “I’ll get this one. I’m a sucker for a fabulous shade of aqua. And…chocolate. Let’s find a treat too.”
I recaptured his hand and grabbed two Twix bars on the way to the self-checkout kiosk at the front of the store.
Purchases complete, I led him to the corner coffee shop and found a table for two outdoors under a green umbrella next to a tattooed, muscle-bound gym rat and a suburban dad-type sporting a rumpled polo shirt, khakis, and white socks. There had to be a bigger story. And usually, I was all for people-watching and conjecture, but I had a professor to tend to today.
I placed our order—a half-caf soy latte, hold the foam for me, and peppermint tea for Thomas—and scrolled through messages and emails while I waited. No updates about practice this week. And nothing from Stefan—thank you, sweet Jesus. That “thinking of you and hoping you’re doing well” text he’d sent a few days ago had me spinning for a full twenty-four hours. No one wanted to hear from an ancient ex. Not me, anyway…and not that ex.
“Noah, your order is ready.”
I gave the purple-haired man behind the counter a thumbs-up, pausing to add a smidge of sugar to my treat and stuff a straw through the top before delivering our drinks.
“Here you go.” I slid into the chair across from Thomas and pushed the piping hot tea toward him, along with a Twix bar and a few packets of sugar. “I wasn’t sure if you liked sugar, but I do, so…I brought you some. Raw, regular, and some artificial nonsense you probably shouldn’t consume. I won’t judge, though. You do you.”