Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 126602 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126602 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
I blinked, asking in a quiet voice, “You aren’t going to tell me about this?”
“No.”
>“Never?”
“Never.”
I pulled out of his hold as this strange hurt filled me. “You told me all that stuff last night, and you won’t tell me this? Is it worse?”
Sean cursed, looking away, then he stood up and stalked out of the room with heavy steps. The bathroom door closed behind him.
I stared off into his bedroom.
I didn’t want to let this bother me, but God, it did. I didn’t want any secrets between us. Even ones too difficult to talk about. I wanted Sean open and honest with me.
How could we be together if he couldn’t be?
I pushed that worrying thought aside and decided I wouldn’t lessen what was shared and how difficult that must have been for Sean. He was trusting me with it. He’d told me so much already.
Don’t dig, Shayla. Do not dig.
I stood from the bed and searched my bag for something to write on. I found an old market receipt and dug around in a pocket for a pen. Finding one, I smoothed out the soft, crumbled paper on the edge of the trunk, then I flattened it on the top and wrote out my note.
Sean,
Thank you for letting me in. I’m not leaving. (I won’t) I’m just going to work.
xoxo,
Shayla
I left the note on the bed, then I slung my bag over my shoulder, tugged on my boots, and slipped out just as sweet little voices filled the hallway.
How I managed to get through four clients that day without dropping on the spot was a miracle.
By two o’clock, I was dead. But I knew taking a nap would only mess up my sleep that evening, so I was fully committed to powering through and staying up.
I was also extremely motivated.
I had work to do. Sean needed help. And I’d give up sleep for the rest of my life if it meant making sure he got it.
After cleaning up after my last client, I grabbed my laptop and plopped down on the couch with my second Red Bull of the day and some trail mix—the good kind with M&M’s. Not that shitty kind that only had dried fruit and unsalted peanuts. I was not a squirrel, and in my opinion, the only reason to purchase trail mix like that was for some sort of feeder out in your yard.
Red Bull cracked open and search engine ready, I got my snack on while looking up local therapists who specialized in childhood traumas.
I hadn’t asked Sean if he’d ever spoken to anyone before about what had happened to him, but I was guessing he hadn’t, considering how closed off he was about the topic. Maybe he didn’t want to talk to anyone, and if that was the case, I wouldn’t push it, but I needed him knowing there were people out there who could help him.
I spent the rest of the afternoon reading bios and client reviews. I looked up addresses and calculated the distance from Sean’s house. I Googled, eliminated, and narrowed down the choices. I was picky. I had to be. Nothing short of the best. Then I made my list of potentials and split them up by gender, in case Sean had a preference.
I was anxious to give it to him. I was prepared to drive over to his house and show him the second I was finished, but I didn’t need to.
Headed over. You home?
I smiled as I read Sean’s text and quit pulling on my boots.
Yep.
Be there in 20.
Can’t wait. xoxo
I sat on the arm of my couch and watched the door.
Even though I might’ve pulled an all-nighter, you couldn’t tell by looking at me, and not just because I was buzzing and wide-eyed from all the caffeine I’d consumed.
I’d showered when I got home this morning and curled my hair with a flat iron, so it looked beachy. I was wearing makeup—which I kept to a minimum except for my lipstick choice, going with a deep ruby shade that looked amazing against my pale complexion—and instead of bumming it in sweats or slipping right into my PJs, I was in black jeggings and my favorite oversize sweater that looked expensive but wasn’t, meaning it looked nice and not frumpy like some oversize sweaters tended to look on me.
So, running on Red Bull and zero sleep, I felt pretty.
Nearly twenty minutes later, a knock sounded, and I dashed across the living room and threw open the door.
Sean stood there in the dim light, looking all kinds of sexy in his white T-shirt and tattered jeans. His hair was tucked behind his ear on one side and hanging freely on the other. His hands were shoved into his front pockets, and his head had been lowered, but he lifted it when he saw me and was currently doing that amazing thing with his mouth where I couldn’t tell if he was smirking or smiling and I didn’t care, because the combination looked incredible.