Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 77842 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77842 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
“I know, but this is a new place with different neighbors. I want to make sure you’re comfortable being here by yourself.”
She shakes her head with an annoyed expression. With her right brow lifted, she turns her head to the side. “It’s safer here than the city, don’t you think?”
I want to throw my brush at her and hold her at the same time. She’s grown so much in the last couple years; it won’t be long before she wants to move out or go to college, leaving me behind and on my own.
I look at the time. I better get going. Grabbing my purse from my dresser, I head to the front door.
“Is your phone is charged?” I ask. It seems any time her and I are apart and I call her, she never picks up. It drives me crazy.
“Yes.”
“If I call, you better pick up!” When she doesn’t respond, I toss a stern look over my shoulder.
“What? I said yes,” she huffs, holding her hands up.
“No going anywhere…for now.” Not until we get a little more settled and know who we’re neighbors with.
“Okaaay,” she says, boredom thick in her voice. Plopping down on the couch, she snatches the remote from the coffee table. I grasp her head and kiss her forehead, before opening the front door to my Uber waiting outside.
“Be back soon!” I holler, shutting and locking the door behind me.
My phone vibrates as I make my way to the car. A quick glance down, and I see Heston texted.
Heston: Lighthouse Restaurant. I’ll wait for you in the cabana.
I’ve never been there before, then again, I haven’t been to too many places. Leaving the apartment gave me anxiety, I felt safe and comfortable inside. That’s why this is such a big deal for me. I’m stepping outside my comfort zone, pushing for new friends and new experiences to help me strangle my loneliness. It surprises me every day how much I hid behind my mother, even as an adult. If there was a problem with Cam, I would seek her help. If I was depressed, she was there. It was like I couldn’t take care of myself after my divorce, and although her help was a Godsend, I’m starting to see how much it hindered my independence. I open the back passenger door and slide into the small car, cherry air freshener invading my nostrils. I glance at the guy behind the wheel. Mid-forties. A rainbow bandana wrapped around his bald head. A long beard braided down his chin.
“Where to, my lady?” he asks over his shoulder, his tone dopey and lacking any energy. I give him the name of the place, and he nods, backing out of my driveway.
The closer I get to the restaurant, the more nervous I become.
I shift in my seat, my hands tugging at the hem of my dress to cover more of my pale thighs. Are my legs usually this washed out or is it the lighting? That little bit of confidence I had is diminishing by the second. I should have worn something more casual, comfortable.
My insecurities begin to spiral.
Did I put deodorant on?
I should have brushed my teeth.
Is my hair frizzy?
We finally pull into a parking lot, taking a sharp right next to a blue and white building, an array of cars right in front of what must be the cabana. The wooden piers hold up a straw roof, and just underneath are a dozen high tables with chairs, and, of course, a bar that can only be described as paradise. There’s twinkle lights, and flowers everywhere.
“Thanks!” I give a small smile to my driver before climbing out. I pay and tip him from my phone and walk toward the cabana. My heart jackhammers inside my chest, causing me to breathe harder.
I place my hand on my chest in attempt to calm myself, noticing I’m a little shaky. Why am I acting like this? This is ridiculous. If he likes me, he likes me. If he doesn’t, screw him. I don’t want to hide in the shadows anymore. I don’t want to be shut up in a house watching TV, while constantly glancing out the window, wondering what some couple is thinking as they walk along the crosswalk. I want to be the kind of person who takes risks, goes on adventures, doing something interesting, something worthwhile. I want to believe I’m capable of more.
As music plays through two speakers by the bar, I stop at the entrance and look under and around the cabana. I spot Heston at a table in the far back.
6
When our eyes meet, he does that sexy smirk of his, and a flirtatious smile takes over my lips. My head lowers before I peek back up at him. Damn, if he isn’t more handsome today. My fingers ache, longing to tangle in his blond, curly hair. His white shirt hugs his shoulders and clings across his broad chest. His dark-washed jeans compliment his lower half just as well. He makes casual strikingly good-looking. I clench my thighs, forcing myself to look away. I weave my way through the tables and chairs, my ears catching, “Start of Something Good,” by Daughtry. I haven’t heard this one in a long time. It’s perfect for the occasion. Nearing the table, he stands up like a gentleman, his blue ocean eyes sizing me up. My body heats under his attention.