Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 128742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 644(@200wpm)___ 515(@250wpm)___ 429(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 644(@200wpm)___ 515(@250wpm)___ 429(@300wpm)
Venturing through the neighborhood alone, exploring, has become one of my favorite activities since moving here. I’ve grown adept at writing internal storylines for myself, imagining new personas and narrating the lives of people I observe. Today’s the first time I’ve felt lonely while doing it.
Nate texts as I’m about to get in the shower, sending me a picture of his hotel room with the caption: Wish you were here with me. Naked, of course.
Of course, I type back, then set the phone down on the vanity, grinning to myself as I step under the hot spray.
After a long shower, I wipe the steam off the mirror and study my flushed, naked body, wondering what it is that Nate sees.
Everything about me feels average. Average weight, height, boob size, face. My best feature is probably my hair—it’s long and thick, a dark shade of red that Eliza always says reminds her of autumn at night. I guess I don’t mind my lips either. They’re naturally red and fuller than most.
But I’m not a supermodel. I shouldn’t have lords trying to kiss me. I shouldn’t have Nate constantly aching for me. Hot Jacks kissing me left and right.
It sounds like I’m standing around admiring myself naked and humblebragging, but I’m genuinely bothered as I study my reflection. This is my first foray out in the wild, away from my father. I’m not experienced. I’m not worldly like Celeste or confident like Yvonne. I wish I knew how people viewed me but at the same time know I shouldn’t care.
I head to my bedroom, where I dress and then get cozy under a blanket with my boat disaster book. After a few chapters, I put myself to bed early.
I’m not sure how long I’ve been lying in the dark with my eyes open when I hear a soft knock at my door. I know it’s Jack, because I heard Lee and Jamie leaving for the pub.
“Yeah?”
A splinter of light from the hallway moves across my wall.
“Hey, sorry.” A shirtless Jack wearing only his pajama pants pokes his head in. “I didn’t realize you were asleep.”
Bitterness stings my cheeks. “I’m not.”
“I can leave.”
“It’s fine.”
“Can we have a chat?”
Whether it’s the regretful pitch of his voice or the exhaustion of keeping up the silent treatment, I don’t have it in me to send him off. I’m too tired to fight him anymore.
“Come in,” I tell him.
He’s hesitant as he enters. Then he stands in the middle of the room waiting on me to decide how we do this. The room’s got a chill to it because Lee is militant about the boiler temperature, so I don’t particularly want to get out of my warm bed. Finally, I scoot to one side and pat the space beside me.
Jack takes up most of the bed, the mattress dipping toward him. Other than the diffused moonlight that slants across the floor, the room is black. We both lie on our backs, me under the covers, him on top of them. I pick at the buttons of the duvet cover, waiting for him to speak and listening to the soft groans and various ticks the house makes when we’re still.
“I wanted to apologize,” he finally says. “I’ve been, ah, avoiding you.”
“Oh my God, really?”
“I take it you’ve noticed.” Jack pauses. “You do my head in, if I’m honest,” he confesses with a smile in his voice.
“Don’t even start.”
“What I mean is I don’t think my mind’s been right since you got here.”
“Sure it hasn’t been longer than that?” I’m only half joking. Jack’s been a confounding enigma from the start. If there’s any rhyme or reason in his behavior, that math is beyond me.
He nudges me with his elbow. “I’m trying to be serious.”
“Right, okay. Serious.” He can’t see me, but I put on a stern face. “Okay, go.”
“I’ve had a thing for you since the day we met.”
“Have you been drinking?”
“Abbey.”
“Just checking.”
He exhales loudly. “I deserve that.”
Yes. He does.
“I mean it, though. I wanted you the moment I met you.”
“You mean the moment you found me in the kitchen my first morning here, looking like a deer in headlights?”
“Yes,” he says simply. “You didn’t feel it?”
I bite my lip. Because I did feel it. The attraction was there from the get-go. Potent. Alive. It was the same way with Nate.
“I felt it.” I still do, I almost confess. “But I’m not playing these games with you anymore.”
“I’m not trying to play games, Abbs. Thing is I’m not good at this. I know how to get women into bed. I know how to fuck them.”
“No, you’re doing amazing, sweetie.”
He coughs out a sharp laugh. “I mean, it’s all the other stuff. The intimacy part. Talking about feelings and the— ”
“Serious stuff.”
“Right. I’m shit at that part. Nothing comes out right.” He throws his arms behind his head. “Guess it scares me a little too. Caring enough to mess it up. I don’t know how to open up to people like that. I’m not quite sure how else to explain it.”