Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 122030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Why am I doing this? Why am I entertaining Paul’s unspoken promises after my grandma warned me that the man I gave my heart to would be my downfall?
It’s Ryet. She saw him or something.
He’s going to ruin me.
So why don’t I get up out of this bed, take his truck keys, and get away?
Is it because I’ve never had anything more than a string of one-week relationships in college? Because I was abandoned by my family? Because I think my mother was going to kill me for my power and my grandma killed her instead?
Or is it just as simple as me finding a place to belong?
Because I certainly never belonged at the Guild.
I push that thought away. In fact, I push all these thoughts away. Instead of taking action or drawing conclusions I simply sigh into Ryet’s warm embrace.
I’m not going anywhere.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE - RYET
Just words.
I am dreaming about owning a boat, haggling with some boat dealer with Syrsee hanging off my arm, rolling her eyes at the negotiation. But then the dream switches and we’re in a house. Something small and unassuming with paned windows that look out onto a green lawn.
Syrsee is cooking something on the stove and there are two kids sitting at a table eating cereal, swinging their feet as they talk with their mouths full.
“What the fuck?”
Syrsee turns when I say this and she’s wearing an apron, smiling at me, not looking much like herself. And she’s pregnant.
“What. The fuck?”
Then I am wide awake. My eyes are open, my heart beating fast, my body cool and almost chilled. In fact, I’m nearly freezing. The only warm part of me is where Syrsee’s body is touching mine.
She turns over, sprawling out on her side of the bed, and then all of me is cold.
I get out of bed, hit the bathroom, and then come back out and check the time on the bedside table clock. Four-seventeen.
“Syrsee?” I don’t say it loud, I just want to know how sleepy she is. Apparently very, because she doesn’t make a sound or move another inch.
Good. I want her to sleep. And I’m gonna hit the gym. This is the first morning in months where I didn’t wake up sweaty and it feels amazing.
I go searching for my clothes, absently trying to piece together what we did last night. Sex, obviously. But I don’t seem to be able to conjure up the details. When I reach the living room, I stop short and stare at it, confused.
Am I in the right place? Because last night when we got in, I could’ve sworn those brown leather couches were actually cream.
I shake my head and just go pick up my clothes, pull my pants and shirt on, then find my boots across the room.
My jacket is where I left it, so I shrug it on, take one last look at the bedroom, listening for noise, then leave. Quietly closing the door behind me.
The sun isn’t up yet so the entire resort is aglow with amber lights. I love walking this place in the dark. I love the steam that wafts up from the little streams, and the way the wooden walking bridges sound under my boots when I cross them, and the way the trees creak from the snow load. And every once in a while, if I’m in the right place at the right time, there’s the howling of wolves across the valley when they take down a kill.
That doesn’t happen this morning, but the rest of it is all the same.
The gym is a standalone building near the main hot springs pool. It’s made entirely of glass, lit up because there are already several people inside. A couple of guys lifting together, a woman on the elliptical, and a few joggers on the track that is really a three-story ramp that winds its way around the inside of the building from top to bottom in a never-ending wave.
That’s where I’m heading when I come out of the locker room dressed in a pair of sweats with the North Star logo on them and my old running shoes that have been here since the place was built. They’re total shit, but I don’t care. I love running and the urge to do it today is so strong, I’d run barefoot if there was no one here to see me.
I run until I’m warm, but I don’t break a sweat.
This is how it used to be. Back when I was young. The heat almost never touched me and it feels so good. It reminds me of how it must’ve felt to be human.
Then my mind drifts to the dream I had. Syrsee in an apron. I chuckle as I continue running. Hey, maybe this is not unusual for her. For all I know she’s got a whole collection of aprons and is a top-notch chef. But the apron wasn’t the only thing about that dream that bothers me.