Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 79553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
I bark out a laugh, loving that she’s again on the same page as me. “You don’t have to tell me twice,” I say, kissing the side of her head. “If it were up to me, I’d spend the next week inside your perfect pussy.”
“Sounds like a plan,” she quips.
Since we’ve been sitting in the car all day—despite it being late, neither of us is tired—instead of going to bed, we end up on the back porch, lounging on the comfortable bed swing. It’s in the fifties tonight, so we’re in sweats and hoodies with a blanket she found thrown over us. Without the city lights, the sky is dark, and only the moon and stars shine any light on us. But it’s enough that I can see her face as she stares up at the sky, inhaling the fresh air as she sips her wine from one of the bottles we bought in Jersey.
“Does this taste weird to you?” she asks, scrunching her nose and putting the glass up to my lips.
I take a sip, a hint of fruit hitting my senses. “I’m not really a wino like you, but it tastes all right.”
She sets it on the table next to her and snuggles up against my chest, stretching her legs out over mine. “This is nice… I enjoyed Jersey and loved the B&B, but this is really relaxing. It reminds me of Big Bear minus the snow.”
“I love Big Bear.” Big Bear Mountain is a ski resort in California where Kendall’s parents and grandparents own cabins. They’ve been vacationing there every winter since I’ve known the Blackwoods, and since Camden and I became friends, I’ve joined them damn near every year.
“It’s a shame we didn’t go this year. Maybe I’ll try to convince my parents to go before the snow dries up in May.”
I sit up slightly and look at her, confused because we did go to Big Bear. And then it hits me. She doesn’t remember. “We went in January, right after the new year.”
Her brow furrows, and then she frowns, realizing she doesn’t remember. “Well, that sucks. I went and can’t even remember if I had a good time.”
“We did,” I tell her truthfully. Kyle was busy at work, so we spent the entire trip together, skiing and chilling by the bonfire.
“I guess I’ll have to take your word for it.” She pouts and drops her head to my chest, and I wrap my arms around her. “I can’t remember like six weeks of my life, and it feels like forever. I can’t even imagine how I’d feel if I had no memory. Who knows what else I can’t remember? I could’ve received life-changing news, and I’d never even know I got it.”
I tighten my hold on her, then hold my breath, praying she didn’t feel it. I’ve thought about telling her about us so many times, even came close a couple of times, but fuck, how do you tell someone you spent the most amazing night with them, a night they don’t even remember? I keep hoping maybe one day she’ll remember. Eventually, if she doesn’t, I’m going to have to tell her, but I don’t want her to be told how amazing the night was. I want her to feel what I felt.
“Oh, look!” She gasps. “A shooting star. Make a wish!”
I do as she says, figuring it can’t hurt, and wish for Kendall to be mine forever.
“Did you do it?” she asks, glancing up at me.
“Yep.”
“Me too.” After a few minutes of silence, she says, “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”
I chuckle at how adorable she is. “You go first.”
“No way! I just wanted to see if you’d do it. I’m not taking that chance.” She huffs and cuddles closer to me.
Wanting to take advantage of the alone time, I decide to play twenty questions with her. “If you could travel anywhere in the world, where would you go?”
“Hmm… I’m not sure. I’ve been to so many places while on tour and on vacations. Honestly, I’m kind of tired of traveling,” she admits. “I’m loving this road trip we’re on, but I think once we’re back at home, I just kind of want to stay put for a while. What about you?”
“Indonesia. There’s a surfing spot I’ve always wanted to check out.” Aside from making music and playing the bass, surfing is one of my favorite pastimes. I’ve missed it since we moved to New York. “Favorite food.”
“Crème brûlée.”
“That’s not food. It’s a dessert.”
“Does it enter my mouth, go down my throat, and land in my belly? Then it’s food, and it’s my favorite. I know yours… empanadas.”
Mmm… she isn’t wrong. Her grandma’s empanadas are the shit. When she comes to visit, she’ll make double just for me. “They’re the best. I miss Grandma Alicia’s cooking.”