Total pages in book: 155
Estimated words: 151333 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 757(@200wpm)___ 605(@250wpm)___ 504(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 151333 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 757(@200wpm)___ 605(@250wpm)___ 504(@300wpm)
This is the thing I never believed in. What I feared the most.
And, sadly, what I can’t have.
“I love you,” I whisper because I need to put it out there into the universe that I’m crazy in love with this man. I don’t care if it’s right or wrong or complicated or that he doesn’t even hear the words leave my lips.
I love him.
Enough to stay, enough to go, enough to wait.
Chapter 53
Skylar
Waking up in Jude’s arms the next morning was what dreams are made of. We didn’t roll away from each other in the middle of the night to seek out space. We hugged until the sun came up. If one of us shifted, we moved together, staying tangled up in each other. I awoke to kisses and his warm hands moving slowly over my body. We made love slowly, wordlessly, dare I say, gently. Every soft kiss and stroke nearly cracked my heart into pieces.
I never knew sex could feel so emotional and connecting, and yet so heartbreaking. I didn’t want it to end, but at the same time, it didn’t feel like a beginning, it felt very much like the end.
And, in a way, it was.
Because that was two weeks ago, and since then, I’ve felt off-kilter. Jude hasn’t been home much, and I’ve been teetering on the fence, trying to decide what to do. My plan was to get my own place, but I keep hoping something will happen to stop me.
I wait until after dinner to approach him. He’s sitting in the living room, going over the plans for the bar on his iPad with blueprints on the coffee table.
“Jude?”
“Mm?” He doesn’t look up at me.
I toss a thick, white envelope on the coffee table next to his blueprints.
“I want my car back,” I say. “That’s the amount you paid for it.”
He slowly looks up and blinks at me, his jaw tense. “You can’t have it.”
My heart skips with shock. “Excuse me?”
“You can’t have the car back.”
“We had a deal.”
“I know, but the car’s in pieces now.”
“Pieces? Why?”
“I’ve been fixing it up. I told you that. But it’s not done yet. I’ve been kind of busy, dealing with migraines, brain fog, and starting a new business.” He waves his hand over the blueprints.
“Believe me, I’ve noticed how busy and distracted you are.” My words come out more bitter than I wanted them to sound. I know it’s not his fault. I’ve seen how much he’s been struggling with everything since the concussion.
His eyes narrow. “What does that mean?”
I swallow and tilt my chin. “Ever since we spent the night together, it’s like you forgot about me. You’re hardly ever home, we haven’t talked much at all.”
Worry flashes in his eyes. “Skylar, I’ve been busy. I had a lot of catching up to do after I got hurt. I have to stay on track if I want the bar to be ready for the reopening.”
“I know,” I reply, feeling like a spoiled child.
“I’m not ignoring you. I thought we were okay.”
“I read the necklace,” I blurt out.
Surprise washes over his face. “You did? When?”
“The night I came back from Connecticut.”
He runs his hand through his hair and leans back into the couch. “I meant it.”
I wait for him to say more, but he sits in silence.
“Actions speak louder than words, Lucky. Otherwise, they’re just words. And I love what the message said, but they’re still just words.”
“And what about your actions, Skylar? You left. You gave your ring back to me. You ran off to Connecticut.”
“And I came back,” I say defensively.
“Only because I fell on my fucking head,” he says.
“That’s not true. I wasn’t going to stay there.”
“No, you were going to come back and then move out.”
“I’m still going to do that. Wasn’t that always the plan? That I’m supposed to leave? I’ve been looking at studio apartments.”
He rubs the back of his head “What’s the rush? You don’t have to move out. I’ve said it a hundred times.”
“Yes, Jude, I do. This isn’t healthy or good for either of us. This weird, roommate slash lovers slash friends slash spouse situation. You say you don’t want me to move out, but you never really say stay, either. You just say I can live here, but as what? I mean, what the fuck is this?”
“I don’t know,” he says quietly.
“It’s limbo,” I say pointedly. “Both of us hanging here, afraid to make a move. Afraid to stay, afraid to go, afraid to talk. We’re just hurting each other, aren’t we?”
“I don’t want to hurt you. Ever.”
“I know that.”
“I want you to be happy. I just need more time…”
I give him an exasperated look. “Time for what, Lucky?”
“To give you everything you deserve.”
“I don’t even know what that means.”
“It means I love you, Skylar. And I just need some time to get my fucking head together to make things better.”