Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 96933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96933 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 485(@200wpm)___ 388(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
My gaze shifts to his sister.
Elle, on the other hand, has been uncharacteristically quiet throughout the meal. She’s usually outgoing and talkative. Always smiling and quick to laughter. No matter what’s going on in my life, the sound of her happiness has always had the power to lighten my mood. Katherine has made several attempts to draw her daughter into the conversation, but Elle is having none of it. She politely responds to whatever question is posed, but there’s a subdued quality to her demeanor.
I don’t like it.
It makes me want to comfort her and somehow alter the trajectory of this evening. Although that’s difficult to do when she refuses to meet my gaze or even acknowledge my presence. As far as Elle is concerned, I have ceased to exist. If it were possible to go back and erase everything that transpired since the Sig Ep party, I’d do it in a heartbeat. Anything would be better than the iciness radiating from her.
Once dinner is finished, Elle quietly slips away from the table. I assume she’s going to use the bathroom, but when she doesn’t return within five minutes, I decide to look for her. When Theo asks Brayden about the upcoming bowl game, I excuse myself and beeline for the kitchen.
The Kendricks’ home is over five thousand sprawling square feet. After Jake died, I’d wondered if Katherine would downsize to something smaller, something more manageable, but that didn’t happen. I doubt Elle or Brayden could have handled any more change.
The first place I check is the small powder room located off the back hallway near the laundry. When I’m halfway across the kitchen, movement from outside catches my attention and I turn my head, expecting to see a squirrel or maybe a deer near the tree line at the back of the property. Instead, my gaze fastens on the slim figure a couple of yards away from the rectangular-shaped pool.
When we were kids, we’d spend hours splashing around in the water. Once we were in high school, I couldn’t keep my eyes off Elle. She lived in colorful bikinis. Some smaller than others. And I enjoyed every damn minute of it. Even when I had to stay in the deep end of the pool to hide my arousal. With the winter months fast approaching, all of the outdoor furniture has been packed up and put away for the season, giving the patio a desolate feel and appearance.
Her arms are wrapped tightly around her middle as she stares toward the woods with a distant look in her eyes. It’s as if the weight of the world is resting on her slender shoulders. There’s a distinct chill to the air, especially now that the sun has dipped beneath the horizon. With only a thin shirt covering her, she must be freezing. After the silence of the last hour, I’m fully aware that she has little interest in speaking to me, but I don’t give it a second thought before detouring toward the set of French doors that lead outside.
The one thing I’ve never been able to bear is Elle’s pain.
Even when I’m the architect of it.
When I’m no more than a few feet away, her head snaps in my direction. Her dark gaze flickers toward mine before dismissing me and returning to the trees.
“What are you doing here?”
Her voice is hollow as if she can’t even be bothered to muster up her previous irritation.
Since she hasn’t told me to get lost—which is exactly what I was expecting—I edge closer. “I was concerned after you disappeared from the table.”
She jerks her shoulders. “Don’t be. I’m fine.”
My attention sharpens, taking in the tightness of her jaw and the sadness lurking in her eyes. “Are you sure about that?”
A puff of air escapes from her lips as she trails her hands over her bare arms. Goose flesh rises in the wake of her fingers. I grab hold of the back of my sweatshirt and whip it off before closing the distance between us and pulling it over her head.
“What are you doing?” she gasps. “I’m fine. I don’t need your hoodie.”
What Elle is really saying is that she doesn’t need me.
But she does.
Whether she wants to admit it or not.
“Yes, you do,” I say, tone hardening in an attempt to stymie any further arguments. “You’re freezing. For fuck’s sake, your teeth are chattering.”
Her annoyed gaze returns to mine as I maneuver her limbs through the sleeves as if she’s a small child. Once the black Western Wildcats sweatshirt settles around her, I run my hands down her covered arms.
“Better?”
A silent war breaks out across her features before she reluctantly gives in with a terse nod. “Yes, but aren’t you cold?”
“Nah. You know the weather has never bothered me.”
One side of her mouth hitches. “Yes, I remember. In high school, you’d wear shorts until January.”