Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 68697 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68697 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
We walk toward her penthouse. “So, what’s the latest with your fitness empire?”
She tells me about some new projects she’s working on. “One of them unfortunately involves my ex,” she says, her jaw ticking.
“Why is it that we have such awful exes?”
“Because we give too much of ourselves,” she says knowingly.
There’s good advice in there. “Are you saying I shouldn’t give so much of myself?”
“I’m saying that if your guy says yes, you need to be careful with your heart. I don’t want to see you broken again.”
The thought chills me. “I don’t want that either. Nor do I want it for you,” I tell her and drop a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll keep looking out for you and you’ll keep looking out for me.”
She kisses my cheek. “Always,” she says.
I walk her home, say goodnight, and head back to mine. Gunnar still hasn’t contacted me by the time I return, and I decide if he doesn’t, that’s all for the best.
A little distance has to be a good thing.
When I get out of the shower later that night, though, my phone is vibrating across the bathroom counter. I grab it before it goes off the edge and see Gunnar’s name blinking at me.
26
MIDNIGHT CRAVING
Rafe
I stare at my phone, my heart thrumming too quickly, my pulse pounding too hard. All this intense reaction to Gunnar’s name on my screen.
The bathroom is tiled in black and white, its sleek modern design hand-selected by me to be a sanctuary, a haven of hot showers and self-care. But instead of reaching for aftershave or my favorite lotion, I clutch the phone like I could break it and stare at my reflection in the mirror. “Who have you become?” I rasp. “Less than two weeks, and you are fucking obsessed with him.”
I close my eyes.
I. Am. Obsessed.
I give in, unlock the phone, and open his message.
Gunnar: I wrote you a long text on the plane a couple hours ago. I hit send over the Midwest, but when we landed in New York I saw that it had never gone out. It made me wonder if fate was trying to tell me something. Do you believe in fate?
Closing my eyes, I pinch the bridge of my nose. What is he trying to ask me? What does he want?
I know what I want—contact. With him. So, with a towel slung around my waist and my body still dripping wet, I write back.
Rafe: I don’t believe in fate. It seems like an excuse to be irresponsible. Life happens. Things don’t always go your way. It’s not fate. It’s just life.
I hit send.
He replies instantly.
Gunnar: Whoa. Are you okay? Hope I didn’t touch a sore spot . . .
I reread my note. I suppose that was rather intense. He can’t possibly know I’m thinking about my parents. I’m not sure now is the time to tell him. But I give him this much . . .
Rafe: Just thinking of people I miss. Family members I’ve lost. I don’t like to think fate was out to get me.
I hit send then catch my reflection in the mirror. The tic in my jaw spasms. A vein in my neck throbs.
I should get dressed, go sit on the couch. But I can’t make myself move. I feel like if I walk away, this conversation will end, and I don’t want that.
Seconds later, there’s a reply.
Gunnar: I’ve lost people I love too. It’s hard, man. It’s really hard. And I know what you mean. It’s not fate.
Rafe: Sorry about your loss. Or losses.
Gunnar: Same to you. Also, it’s weird to talk about this over text.
My heart squeezes. Is he going to call me? I don’t know that I want a deep, Friday night conversation about missing. I do my best to stave it off with my reply.
Rafe: It is difficult, true. So, why did you ask me about fate?
There. I’ve directed the conversation back to the present, away from the past and the people in it.
Gunnar: I wonder if fate was looking out for me.
My stomach twists. I wish he’d just be direct, but at least he’s being honest, it seems.
Rafe: What was in this text you didn’t send me? Since you keep mentioning it.
Gunnar: What happens if I say no to you?
I grimace as a weight sinks in my gut. Taking the phone, I head to the living room and sink onto my couch, defeated and resigned. I should have prepared for this answer, but I didn’t think it would happen. Maybe that makes me a fool.
I stare out the window, where the evening is shrouded in fog. It’s fitting, really.
Rafe: If you say no, that will be that.
I look at the note. That’s really all there is to say. I hit send, and his reply pings back almost immediately.
Gunnar: You wouldn’t try to convince me?