Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 116708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
I placed a hand on his chest, letting the strong thrum of his heart settle me, and whispered, “Are you going to kiss me now, True?”
“I’ve been waiting all fucking day for you to ask me that.” He hooked his arm around my waist and crushed my body to his, mere seconds before his lips came down over mine.
My body came alive as his tongue moved with mine, our mouths dancing together, synchronized in perfect rhythm. It was both so familiar yet so foreign.
My fingertips curled into his shirt, and I pressed up onto my toes so that I could loop my arm around his neck, pulling him closer to deepen the kiss. The taste of him, the scent of his cologne tinged with the saltiness of sweat, and the way his arm flexed as he held me tight were intoxicating and I found myself wanting nothing more than to get drunk on him.
Why had it been so long since I’d felt this? Better yet, what could I do to ensure that I never lost this feeling again?
He groaned, the deep timbre of lust and desire reverberating through me, and in that instant, I snapped back to reality.
I was kissing Truett.
A man I’d loved so fiercely.
The same man who had broken my heart, shattered it into a million pieces. Pieces I was still trying to put back together.
I broke our seal and stepped away, my lungs filling with the oxygen I’d deprived them, my mind swirling with indecision.
What was I doing?
Oh, God. What was I doing?
“I…uh,” I said, still trying to catch my breath. “I’m not sure we should be doing that.”
His lips tipped in a grin. “Really? Because I was just thinking we should have been doing that every day for the last twenty years.”
Shit. I felt that too.
He gave my hip one last squeeze before turning to shove the front door open. “We still good for Saturday morning?”
I should have said no and nipped what would surely turn into a fiasco of epic proportions in the bud.
I couldn’t make out with Truett and then just casually hang out with him on Saturday.
Had I suddenly developed a case of amnesia?
Apparently so, because when I opened my mouth, a shaky, “Yeah,” came out.
He smirked. “Good. I’ll see you then.” He shut the door and then spoke a muffled command through the glass, “Make sure you lock up.”
Stunned and dazed, I stared at him, but he didn’t walk away until I finally flipped the deadbolt.
Truett
Eighteen years earlier…
“Why aren’t you dressed? The funeral starts in twenty minutes.” Disbelief coated her words as they echoed loudly in the open space of my living room. It was a stark contrast to the silence I’d been sitting in for the last few hours. “Truett, look at me.”
I kept my gaze aimed at the unraveling thread I’d been picking on the arm of the couch.
I couldn’t bear to look at her. I’d seen more than enough when she’d shoved my front door open and marched inside.
Heels, black with straps around her ankles.
Tanned legs.
A black dress that hit just above her knee and cinched at the waist.
A thin silver chain resting against the column of her smooth neck, its cross flush against her breastbone.
Small hoops in her ears, hidden by the long dark waves of her silky hair as it rested over her shoulders.
Makeup applied strategically to hide the dark bags under her eyes.
Red-rimmed eyes that hit me like acid raining from the sky.
No. I couldn’t look at her again. I’d seen enough of her tears to last me a million lifetimes.
Hope replaced the exasperation in her voice. “Did you lose track of time or something? We’re going to be late.”
I hadn’t lost track of anything. I could tell down to the very minute how long it had been since the world had come to a screeching halt.
I wasn’t dressed because I wasn’t going.
Plain and simple.
I shook my head, my eyes still trained on the corner of that ratty brown couch, the one she hated but I couldn’t bear to part with. Especially now.
Her heels clicked on the wood floor as she walked over to me before sitting on the coffee table in front of me. Her words were unfairly patient as she spoke. “I know this is going to be hard for you. But I need you there. I can’t do this by myself.”
She wouldn’t be by herself. Her family would be there. Her parents, who thought I was every bit of the fuck-up I’d proven myself to be, would mourn beside her, grief-stricken and shattered.
They would all be better off if I never showed my face again. At least then I couldn’t destroy their family any more than I already had.
“Please,” she begged. “I need you. I’ve been a mess. I keep alternating between crying and throwing up. I haven’t eaten or slept in days. And for some reason, all I can think about is how dark it’s going to be when they lower the casket into the ground.” Reaching out, she stilled my hand, the tiny diamond on her engagement ring catching the light.