Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 82678 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82678 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Pushing my way through the revolving doors, I was just about to text him when the world seemed to stop spinning.
I quickly became aware that I wasn’t going to have to wait long to find out what had become of Landon.
The sight of him knocked the wind out of me.
I froze.
I recognized his brawny, tattooed arms from the back immediately. At least, I was ninety-nine percent sure it was him. Landon was standing near the curb as he presumably waited for a ride.
Now that I could see he was apparently fine, I became paralyzed by a new kind of fear.
He hasn’t seen you yet.
There’s still time to turn around and go home, Rana.
Landon reached into his pocket to take out his phone and began typing something for a while. I just continued to stay still, watching him from afar.
About two minutes later, my phone vibrated.
He’d been typing a text to me.
Landon: I know it’s late there. I’m sure you’re sleeping, and technically I’m in the middle of a self-imposed ban on contacting you, but I just wanted to let you know something. Life is fucking short. I’m okay…but I hit my head skateboarding. I got a mild concussion. Spent the whole day in the hospital so they could run tests to make sure my head was still screwed on straight. (Although that’s never really been the case, right?) Anyway, the whole point of this text is to let you know that it would have really sucked if for some reason I wasn’t okay, mainly because I would’ve never had a chance to tell you that I was sorry for hanging up on you. If by any chance you’re up, and you get this, I could really use a little of your crazy right now. Tell me something funny, Rana.
Oh, my God.
Okay, breathe.
Without thinking it through, I just began to type. My hands were shaking.
Rana: I’ve got one for you. It’s a long one, actually. So, I go to text you during my intermission at work, and you write back…except it’s not you. It’s your friend writing to let me know that you’re in the hospital, that you’d hit your head, and that he had no idea how bad it was. What does a sane person do in that scenario? She runs out of work and heads to the airport. I get there, and it turns out—big surprise—my credit card is declined. So, I wasn’t getting on a flight until the old man who’d been ogling me just minutes before decides to pay for my plane ticket. I proceed to kiss him on the lips and run to the gate. Never been on a plane before in my life. Six hours later, I’m at the hospital in L.A., still dressed in my beaded bra and sheer skirt, only to find out you were discharged. Broke, hungry, and dressed like a whore on Halloween, I come outside to find that by some twisted miracle of fate—you’re standing on the curb. So, I stay frozen, right behind you, scared as shit.
I hit send.
My entire body was now trembling as I watched him look down at his phone and read the message.
I waited for that moment, and it came when his body whipped around.
My chest was heaving. Finally, his eyes landed on mine. It was truly the most surreal moment of my life, as beautiful as it was terrifying.
The night wind blew my hair around as Landon slowly approached me. He was even more stunningly handsome in person and up close. His eyes were even lighter than I remembered, the slight bump on his nose more prominent.
Awestruck, his eyeballs were flitting back and forth as he silently took me in. He placed his large, warm hand gently on my cheek. I closed my eyes for a moment to cherish the feeling. The simple touch sent what felt like shockwaves throughout my body, nerves colliding with desire, fear clashing with comfort. So familiar yet scary.
Landon said nothing as he just looked at me intensely and then began to gently trace the contours of my face. I closed my eyes again as he ran his index finger along the slope of my small, upturned nose. His finger then travelled over my lips then down my neck and stopped just before my breasts, which were busting out of the jewel-encrusted bra.
“Holy shit,” he muttered. “It’s really you.”
Say what you’re thinking.
Say what you’re thinking.
Just say it.
He never did.
Our moment was interrupted by a loud horn, which barely broke Landon’s trance-like state.
A bearded, hipster-looking guy rolled down his window and yelled, “Yo!”
“Who is that?” I asked.
Landon was still looking at me in a haze and didn’t break his stare when he said, “My friend, Ace. He came to pick me up.”
Ace put his hazards on, got out of the car, and came over to where we were standing just outside the main entrance.