Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 106798 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106798 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Rolling to the side facing him, I force my eyes open halfway as he scoots down, facing me on his side. He doesn’t say anything. Nothing really needs to be said. We’re two friends wading through the stages of grief, finding comfort in each other’s friendship. Just … friend stuff.
Unfortunately, that partial bottle of wine overrules my silence. “Suzie wanted this …” I whisper.
Zach remains silent, just an unreadable expression and his soulful eyes staring back at me.
“She wanted me to take care of you.” My eyes blink heavily as I inch my face closer to his.
Zach doesn’t blink. Not once. He doesn’t move. I’m not sure he’s breathing.
“I like taking care of you. But I hate … I hate missing you.” I barely register my own voice. I’m unsure if I’m thinking the words or saying them. “You’re such a good man.” The wine lets me lean in the final two inches, pressing my lips to his. It’s not really a kiss because neither one of us move our mouths or any other parts of our bodies for that matter. I close my eyes and fall into a dream state.
In the morning, he’s gone. His suitcase is here, but he’s not here. No note. No text on my phone. Maybe he decided to eat breakfast without me. As I sit on the edge of the bed and rub my head, it comes back to me.
I kissed him. Sort of. What does that even mean? I pressed my lips to his. That’s a kiss, right? It was less of a kiss than our wedding—our marriage ceremony—but more of a kiss than had I just kept my lips to myself.
Had I left the hotel instead of opening that bottle of wine from the minibar.
Had I stayed at the hostel.
Had I not fallen in love with my friend’s husband.
Had I not fallen in love with my husband.
“Shit.” I leap off the bed and shove my feet into my boots, grab my phone, and bolt toward the door before he comes back from … wherever.
I kissed him.
SHIT!
I kissed him, and it was a stupid thing to do.
Way to ruin your marriage by kissing your husband.
Throwing open the door, I’m stopped in my pursuit by a tall, sweaty Zachary Hays with his shirt draped over his bare torso, shorts riding extra low on his hips, running shoes just inches from the toes of my brown boots.
“In a hurry?” he asks.
“Um … I … I wasn’t sure where you went, and I know you fly out tonight, and I probably kept you awake with my snoring. So …”
I have no idea if I snore or not, and I’m sure he knows I’m frantically talking out of my ass because I KISSED HIM!
“I guess what I’m saying is … we don’t need to have brunch. I mean … we got to see each other, and I’m sure we’ll run into each other again sometime. Right?”
He smirks. “I forgive you for kissing me. Now, can we do brunch at ten and forget about shitty minibar wine and meaningless mistakes?”
My lips part as my jaw makes a slow descent to the floor. I’m not sure how to respond.
Forgive me?
Meaningless mistake?
I need a new husband.
Who am I kidding? Zach isn’t my husband. He’s Suzie’s husband. I’m like the child they adopted. Only they couldn’t adopt a twenty-three-year-old, so Zach married me to give me health insurance, which is basically like illegal or fraudulent adoption of an adult.
And maybe I don’t need a husband, real or otherwise. Maybe what I do need is a meaningless mistake, the kind that doesn’t require an apology and doesn’t have to feel like an actual mistake.
“Yeah,” I whisper, wrapping a bandage around my delicate heart and tucking it away from Zach's reach. “We can do brunch. And I appreciate your forgiveness. I wasn’t thinking at all. Stupid wine.”
His smirk transforms into a full smile. I can’t tell if it’s genuine or not because I’m too focused on my own fake reaction to his words. I’m too focused on finding the quickest way to hook up with literally any decent, single guy so my delusional mind can recalibrate with reality again.
“You weren’t making much sense. A lot of mumbling. You weren’t yourself. See you back here soon?”
I nod slowly. “Sure. I’ll uh … just meet you downstairs at the buffet.”
“Sounds good.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Zach
Rules.
Protocol.
Guidelines.
I need something.
Minimal thought was involved in my decision to request this flight to Sydney. After months of following Emersyn’s posts on social media, I needed to see her. Really see her.
Why? Well, I’m still trying to figure that out.
Now I’ve seen her. Now I know how her lips feel against mine. That’s not why I came here. I feel like I need to apologize to Suzanne. It’s stupid, but feelings are exempt from any sort of reason or justification.