Total pages in book: 166
Estimated words: 157273 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157273 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
“Okay.” She stood, and Sadie rose with her. “Five minutes at a time, right? Isn’t that what you used to tell me? As long as you hold up your end, I can pretend to be in a relationship with you. I’m great at playing a role.” She bent at the knees and picked up the end of Sadie’s leash. “Juniper has to understand that I’ll be back in New York mid-August, so we can’t drag this on indefinitely. If Caroline doesn’t like me by then, it’s a lost cause.” Allie shrugged. “But we’ve always been good for a summer, right?”
Ouch. That hit somewhere in the vicinity of my rib cage.
“Okay. Summer it is.” Guess we were doing this. I nodded, fully committing myself. If this was what she wanted, I would do it for her, for all of them, even Caroline. And it wasn’t like I had to pretend to want Allie. Apparently, I was shit at hiding it, anyway. “I’ll more than hold up my end.”
“Good, then I’ll be there Saturday. Now, Sadie and I are going to take a nap. No need to find her a home. I’m hers now.” Allie started up the steps with Sadie. Her voice, her motions, they were all so flat that my ribs constricted as I twisted to watch her walk away. “Oh, and Hudson?” she said from the top of the stairs, turning to look at me. “To be flawlessly convincing, you should unblock my number so you can get ahold of me, assuming that’s why you never picked up any of the times I tried to call you.”
“Yeah.” My gut hollowed, because that’s exactly what the eighteen-year-old fool I’d been had done. “I can do that.”
She walked into her bedroom and shut the door.
“I think she just stole your dog.” Anne rose to her feet and dusted off her knees.
“She was never mine. I just rescued her.” And I couldn’t think of any better place for her to be. I stood, then walked down the last two steps to the foyer. “Now, what’s going on with Allie, and why aren’t you doing anything about it?”
Chapter Ten
Hudson
User936221: This is satire, right? Your turnout is all wrong, and don’t get me started on your arms.
Anne wrapped the edges of her cardigan around herself defensively. “Nothing is going on with her. And I am helping. She refuses to rehab at the Company, so I’m here with her, making sure she doesn’t . . .”
“Fall further into depression?” I waged a full-on battle against my instincts to keep from trailing after Allie. “That’s what it is, right?”
“What’s Juniper’s favorite food?” She tucked a curl behind her ear and stared when I didn’t reply. “One for one, Ellis.”
I weighed my options, and Allie won. “Pizza. She’s ten.”
“Pizza.” She echoed my response with a sad smile. “You’re right about Allie. But she’s medicated and sees a therapist. It’s not uncommon for athletes when they’re injured and can’t do what they love. She’ll pull out of it once she’s back on the stage, just like she did before.”
Before. She’d gone through this after the accident too. My shoulders ached under the weight of well-deserved guilt. I should have been there for her then, but I was here now.
“What’s her favorite movie?” Anne asked.
Seemed safe enough. “Star Wars. Marathon if she’s sick. Episode five if there’s only time for one. Is Allie seeing anyone?” My eyes squeezed shut with immediate regret. “Never mind. Forget I asked that.” When I opened my eyes, Anne arched a brow.
“No,” she replied slowly. “She’s not. No one lasts longer than a casual fling and they’re always other dancers. She’ll say it’s because she’s focused on her career or gets bored easily. Personally, I think someone gave her some pretty unconquerable trust issues.”
That landed like a punch to the stomach. “Someone being me.”
“That would be my guess. What is Juniper afraid of?”
Too far. “Try again. You’re not getting the details of what she puts in her diary.” I headed for the door. Funny, I’d walked out of it more often today than I had in my entire life.
“That’s not fair,” Anne sputtered. “I told you about the depression.”
“Yeah.” I reached for the door handle. “And I’m way more protective of Juniper’s secrets than you are of Allie’s, apparently. Ask something else.” The door creaked as I opened it.
“What does she want to be when she grows up?”
I scoffed. “A fucking ballerina. She’s part Rousseau, isn’t she?” Every cell in my body abhorred leaving Allie to sleep off today’s events, but the longer I stayed, the more Anne was going to question me about Juniper.
“Not every Rousseau is a dancer,” Anne argued, catching the door as my shoes hit the porch. “What do you get out of doing this?”
I hesitated, reaching the steps. “Juniper’s happiness, Caroline’s eventual peace of mind, and a shot at earning Allie’s forgiveness.”