Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 128801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 644(@200wpm)___ 515(@250wpm)___ 429(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 644(@200wpm)___ 515(@250wpm)___ 429(@300wpm)
Enough to get him through the day.
Enough to make it.
Because he saw the message that was waiting for him on his phone, and he knew it was the one thing that would have truly made his mother hate him.
What made him hate himself.
Dare
You’re on tonight.
Ryder - Twenty-Two Years Old
The bell dinged overhead as he walked through the door to the small bakery on the corner of Manchester and Elm. He’d been strolling down the sidewalk when he’d seen the board sitting out front proclaiming baked goods in a swirly font, but he guessed it was the scent radiating out of the darkened panes of glass that fronted the shop that had stopped him in his tracks.
What had hit him like a thunderclap.
A million memories surged, slamming him from out of nowhere. Good ones, and not the ones that had stacked up like bad omens over the last five years.
He tossed open the door without giving it a second thought and strode inside, then he nearly toppled over when the girl who’d been obstructed behind the glass display case suddenly stood and came into view behind the cash register.
Her eyes went wide at the sight of him, surprise catching her up and parting her lips as he stood there, trapped by the scent of sugar and vanilla that filled the air, a moron who couldn’t speak because he was too busy getting lost in thoughts of the good days.
Back when he’d wander into that small kitchen at Cody’s house. Back when life was simple and right. Before he’d squandered away every good thing in his life.
“Dakota,” he finally managed, shaking his head to clear the daze. He sent her a soft smile. “Is that you?”
Obviously.
There was no missing the unique shade of her eyes. The brown flecked with reds that reminded him of cinnamon. Her heart-shaped face, her full cheeks, that same soft expression she’d forever worn.
But she was different.
Older.
God, close to nineteen, he guessed she had to be. Time fucking flew when you were always high, he supposed.
Redness climbed from the collar of her shirt, and she dipped her head before she cleared her throat. “Ryder. Oh my gosh, it’s so good to see you. How are you?”
It wasn’t like he wasn’t around, but he’d been missing. A phantom that haunted the night. He talked to Cody every now and again, had hung out with him and Ezra a few times over the years, but it wasn’t the same.
Not even close.
And the last time he’d met up with Cody, his oldest friend had backed him into a corner, shoving him against the wall and demanding he come clean. He had told him he was fucking sorry about his mom, but it wasn’t a valid excuse any longer.
He’d told him he was pathetic.
That his mom would be ashamed of what he’d become.
Like he didn’t know every single one of those things.
So, he’d made himself scarce, drifting through the shadows of this town like he didn’t exist.
“Good,” he finally managed the lie. “How about you?”
That blush kept lighting her cheeks, a timidness surrounding her, an unease that hadn’t been there before, even though there was still that same familiarity that had always been between them tugging at him somewhere deep.
That comfort that had always come with looking at her.
She shrugged a shoulder. “I’m good. Finishing up my senior year in a couple months and working here on the weekends and afternoons. At least as much as I can without failing my classes.”
He remembered she’d always been close to a year older than the rest of her class. She’d repeated first grade because she’d had some speech difficulties, but once she’d overcome that, he couldn’t remember a time that her mom hadn’t had one of her honor-roll certificates pinned to their fridge.
“I doubt there’s much risk in that. You always were the smart one.”
He took a couple steps deeper into the bakery, part of himself warning him not to get too close, that he didn’t belong, while the other part couldn’t resist.
Because he’d missed her.
Her smile and her sweetness and just how cool she’d always been. He couldn’t stop the grin from cracking at the edge of his mouth. “Smells good in here. Knew you were going to conquer the world with your baking.” He let a small tease wind into his tone.
More of that redness, and she let go of a self-conscious giggle. “It’s not my baking. I mean, I put the cookies in the oven, but it’s not my recipes or anything. I just work here.”
“But you’re going to own it one day. No one does it quite like you.”
She dropped her head between her shoulders, flushing all over the place, though she kept peeking out at him. “Someday, maybe, but I have a long way to go.”
“I know it will happen for you. You’ve always been like that. Going after what you want. All of my memories of you are in that kitchen, mixing up something amazing.”