Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 103104 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103104 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
“Where’s your favorite place to vacation?”
She smirks. “Never been out of Nashville, but I’d love to see the ocean some day. Sand between my toes kind of thing. I’ll go when I’m done with college, take Tyler with me. He would flip. Someday.”
I have to look away from her face.
She’s too…sweet.
Vulnerable.
I ease my body away from her, just a few inches. I have no right to be this close to her, not after what I did—
“What was your favorite vacation ever?” she murmurs, interrupting my thoughts.
I don’t even have to think about it. “When I was little, maybe seven, my parents took us skiing in Colorado. They were getting along then, or at least they still seemed like they cared about each other. Dane and I tore up the bunny slopes. Dad loved it too. Mom liked to stay in the cabin and make us hot chocolates when we got back. The snow was beautiful and white and clean. It felt like only good things could happen in a place like that.” I clear my throat. “Honestly, I can’t remember a good vacation since then. My dad started working all the time, my mom was diagnosed with bipolar depression, and then everything else happened.”
There’s a long silence. Johnny and Baby are on the screen, but Ava and I stare at each other.
“Everything else just covered a whole lot of stuff you aren’t saying,” she says softly.
My heart dips. I really don’t want to talk about Mom and the final straw that tore her down. It’s too close to what happened to Ava. “Tulip, don’t… Let’s just watch the movie.”
At first, I think she’s going to press me, but something she sees on my face changes her mind.
“Of course.” She turns back to the screen and the moment is gone.
Time passes, and I watch the movie, or do I? The images are there, but she’s here, and my muscles are wired, and why did I want to do this and why am I torturing myself with someone I can never have?
I don’t want to even be her friend.
So why do I want to know her favorite color?
What’s in that locket she clutches?
What makes her happy?
Why does she love tomatoes?
I glance down at the notebook she’s been half-heartedly writing in, reading her notes.
Who calls a grown woman Baby?
Awkward, but opinionated. She’s the real hero. Courageous. Forces her family to see what she sees.
Johnny is hot. Dude can dance. He’s kind. Cares for his friends. Men should be kind. Kisses AMAZING. Dang. He knows how to look at a woman. And dance. Heard he was a ballet dancer in real life.
Romantic aspect: First love. Love in adversity. Love between opposites. Palpable chemistry, that’s for damn sure…
And then the pen falls out of her hand, her body sways, just a little, coming closer, and her head bobs forward, then back to the wall, then she’s lying on my shoulder. Out cold.
The room is hot. Fucking stifling.
My hands clench.
So close.
So damn close to me.
A broken girl.
A fierce girl.
Just for me.
God, how I want that.
Her body shifts imperceptibly closer to mine until the side of her face presses against my chest. The final scene plays as the staff dance and Johnny catches Baby when she does that fancy jump thing. I barely notice—hell, I’m barely breathing when the credits roll, and I still haven’t moved five minutes later, afraid to jostle her, to lose how good she feels, the warmth of her arm against mine, the scent of her hair in my face.
Moving slowly, my hand touches her hair, my finger drifting over the edge of her jaw. So delicate. So soft. Sliding a strand of hair behind her ear, my head goes back to last year when she was in that tub at Chance’s and I was…well, doing what I was doing. I was so pissed and angry at myself, at her, watching her dance, with him, driving myself nuts imagining them doing more. She was his, and I’m an asshole, but I’d never hurt my best friend.
My hand caresses her nape, that delicate skin under her hair—
“What! What did I miss?!” She jerks back, wiping at her face, shuffling away from me.
And she’s gone.
My hand falls. I can’t look at her, so I stare at the laptop.
“Crap! Did I miss the ending?” She blows out a breath.
Inhaling, I say, “It’s over, Tulip.”
And I don’t mean just the movie. I have to shut down this rollercoaster she’s put me on.
A sound of frustration comes from her lips. “Ugh! I was wiped out! First week of school and work and Tyler and school…” She pauses as a small bell dings in the room. “And they’re closing in fifteen minutes! We didn’t even talk about the movie!” She stands up, hands on her hips as she paces as much as she can in the room. “What now?” She checks her phone. “It’s almost ten and the entrance at the dorms will be locked—”