Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 45573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 228(@200wpm)___ 182(@250wpm)___ 152(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45573 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 228(@200wpm)___ 182(@250wpm)___ 152(@300wpm)
I’m about to rattle off my address. “I live—”
He stops me. “I know where you live.”
Fuck… this man. I’m trying to play it cool and keep it simple, but when he says things like that, how can I? “Okay, I’ll see you at my house tomorrow.”
“Okay,” he says gruffly.
I get into my car and drive away. It’s only when I get out of the parking lot that it hits me. I’m at a crossroads. I want Jason more than I’ve wanted anything in a long time, and I don’t know what to do about it. Can I trust him with my heart?
CHAPTER 15
JASON
I fucked up. I’m not sure what I did to fuck up, but I did.
She texted me last night when she got home, but it was brief. She just let me know she made it okay and I wasn’t sure what to say to her, so all I responded with was “Thanks for texting me. Let me know if you need anything. See you tomorrow.”
She never responded.
I was up most of the night, tossing and turning. I was almost late for my therapy appointment. As I approach the barn, I can hear someone walking and twigs snapping. “Morning,” I say to Chris.
I hear the chain rattle on the door and then the sound of the barn doors opening. I’m scrubbing my hand through my hair as I walk in.
“You look like shit,” Chris says.
I nod. “I’m sure I do.”
“How was the date?”
I grunt instead of answering him. “What are we working on today?”
Chris pauses for just a minute. “Walker needs forty tables.”
“What kind of tables?”
“Coffee tables.”
I point around the barn. “Is there enough wood for that?”
Chris laughs. “We’ve got enough for twenty. I’ve ordered more, and it will be here in the next few days.”
I’m nodding my head. I know when I’m in here, I need to stay focused, but my mind keeps going to Olivia. “You have design plans or you know what he’s looking for?”
When he talks again, he’s across the room. “I’m at the drafting table. We had plans made up.”
I walk over to the table and press my hand to the top of it. The papers are spread out, and I run my fingers across them, feeling the raised bumps of braille. The words come to me, and I learn the type of wood, dimensions, stain needed, and everything. “Wow. A lot went into this.”
Chris doesn’t comment.
I let out a breath. “All right, let’s get started.”
We work for an hour before Chris interrupts my thoughts. “So you going to tell me what happened?”
“What happened with what?”
Chris chuckles. He’s standing over my shoulder as I work, and each time I cut a piece of wood, I’m able to refrain from talking, which is nice. I’m not sure I’m ready to talk about my disastrous date last night. I mean, it was perfect… until it wasn’t.
When the blade turns off, I start stacking the cut wood against the wall. We planned to do one table, make any needed corrections, and then start on the rest.
As I’m coming back to the table, Chris asks again. “I mean, you might as well talk it out. You know it’s always a good thing to get a fresh perspective.”
Fuck! I blow out a breath. I keep my hands busy and start to talk. “I thought everything was perfect. It was going great. Then we kissed, and she freaked out and left.”
His silence is deafening, and so I continue. “I asked her if she was okay and she said yeah. I walked her to her car but it was obvious she was freaked out. I really don’t have a clue what happened. I’m taking her out tonight. At least I think I am. She hasn’t canceled yet.”
And still he remains silent. I’ve had enough therapy to know that I’m waiting on him to ask me how it made me feel. When he doesn’t, I start to ramble. “It’s fucked up. I would have given anything to see her, to know what she was thinking.”
“You think seeing her is the only way to know what she’s thinking?”
I think about his question, and the truth is, Olivia’s pretty open with everything. She uses touch to show me things, and she talked to me while she did things. She understands me in a way that no one else does. “I don’t know. Maybe I just want to see her. If my eyesight would just come back…”
He inhales and lets it out, and I stop what I’m doing. “What? What is it?”
He’s quick to reply. “Nothing. I know the specialist is coming in, and maybe then we’ll have a better idea on your sight, but it’s been two years, Jason.”
My stomach turns. “You don’t think I’m getting my sight back.”
There’s a screeching sound as if he’s pulling up a chair and he must sit on the stool. “I’m not a medical doctor. But I can say that yes, we all hope you get your vision back, but until then, you need to make the best of today.”