Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 124135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 621(@200wpm)___ 497(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124135 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 621(@200wpm)___ 497(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
And she looked…I couldn’t look away.
She was wearing the purple dress she’d been wearing in Brighton. Someone came out of the door holding a takeaway espresso. He held the door for me. “You want in?”
I didn’t think it through; I just walked in the door, the scent of roasted coffee beans slamming into my face. When I saw Bryce leaning into Bonnie, Bonnie smiling, something seemed to snap within me.
I crossed the coffee shop and pulled out the chair at the table right next to theirs. I leaned back in the seat. Bonnie’s brown eyes were wide as they latched on to me. Her lips parted. Slowly, a burst of red flared on her cheeks. It was like seeing the sound of a G-sharp note tattooed on her pale skin.
Sam, the barista who had served us before, came over. I flicked him an uninterested glance. He frowned and looked between me and Bonnie. “Black coffee,” I said, then looked over at Bonnie again.
She’d ducked her head away from me. But I had all of Bryce’s attention. His face was fuming. Good.
He leaned closer to Bonnie and gave her a smile. My fingers dug into my palms when she smiled back. My coffee arrived, and I turned my head away. I needed to breathe. To keep it together. Because the sight of them together was driving me mad.
I listened in on their conversation, zoning everything else out. They talked of school. Of music. When Bryce talked about what he was creating for Lewis, I wanted to punch him. But when Bonnie told him she’d started composing her own, I froze.
She’d already started without me.
About five minutes later, Bryce got up and went toward the toilets. Bonnie turned her head to me, eyes tired. “Cromwell, what are you doing here?”
I didn’t like how sad her voice sounded. It was navy blue. “I was thirsty.” Her shoulders sagged and she played with the handle of her cup.
Bonnie flicked her hair back from her shoulder, showing a big silver hoop in her ear. She had more makeup on than I’d ever seen her wear. I shifted in my seat when it hit me that I thought she looked beautiful.
She must have seen me staring. She leaned forward, voice low. “Cromwell. Please,” she begged. “Stop, whatever this is.” Her eyes fell. “This constant back and forth…I can’t do it anymore. You have your life and I have mine. And that’s okay.”
“You had me dropped as your partner,” I said, and she blinked in shock.
She looked toward the toilets. When there was no sign of Bryce, she said, “Lewis didn’t think we were working. I agreed. He allowed us to do the project on our own.” She took a deep breath. “It’s for the best.”
You heard it, I wanted to say to her. No one else has ever heard it, but you did. And you’ve walked away. You’ve let me push you away…
“You’ve been given a gift, Cromwell. A beautiful gift. And when you let your walls down, it’s pure and beautiful…” Her face filled with sympathy. “But you fight so hard. Fight against letting anyone in.” She shook her head. “You run, Cromwell. You run from music. And you ran from me because I heard it.” She took a sip from the glass of water beside her.
Bryce pushed through the door of the men’s room, and she glanced at me from the side of her eye. “Please leave, Cromwell.” She clutched her cup. “I want to enjoy tonight.”
She turned her back to me, breathing labored. I stared at her, chest aching from what she’d said.
Bryce sat back down. His eyes narrowed as he looked at us. “Everything okay, Bonnie?”
“Yeah.” I heard the fake smile in her voice. “Cromwell was just leaving.”
Anger built inside me in an instant. I watched her with Bryce and let the fire consume me. I’d been a walking inferno for three years, and seeing her with him right now, Bonnie choosing Bryce over me, sparked the flame so hot I had no way to stop it. “Nah, don’t think I’ll leave,” I said and settled back in my seat. Bonnie looked at me, confusion engulfing her face.
Sam came and refilled my coffee. Bryce and Bonnie started talking again in low tones. Reaching over to their table, I swiped the sugar bowl. My action cut off their conversation. Bonnie was beyond pissed off; I could see that much. “Need sugar,” I said.
Bryce folded his arms across the table. I leaned closer and listened in. My hand absently played with the handle of the cup. “It’s based on the journey of an immigrant to America from Ireland,” Bryce was saying. “We start with an Irish violin solo, then move in a flute, then more strings.” I huffed a laugh. Bet it sounded great.
Bryce shot me a glare. Then he covered her hand with his, and he turned his attention back to her. Bonnie tried to move her hand away, but Bryce threaded his fingers through hers and kept hold of the touch. Bonnie stared at the entwined fingers and frowned.