Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 91216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
I swallow against the guilt and desire warring inside me. “No, not crazy at all. I feel the same way about you.”
And it’s true. Despite everything, despite the lies and the secrets, I do feel a connection with Chloe. One that goes beyond my initial fascination with her. One that scares me more than I’d like to admit. And after what I discovered about her last night . . . Well, it’s fair to say that my obsession has grown to a completely new level of insanity.
This woman is my dream girl, and she doesn’t even know it.
“Another drink?” I ask, desperate to break the tension.
She nods, and I signal the bartender. As he pours our drinks, I steal glances at Chloe. She’s playing with a strand of her hair, lost in thought. I wonder what she’s thinking about. Is she still worried about her stalker . . . AKA me? Is she thinking about her parents? Or is she thinking about me?
The bartender sets down our drinks, and Chloe raises her glass. “To new friends,” she says with a smile.
I clink my glass against hers, ignoring the voice in my head that screams I’m anything but a new friend. “To new friends,” I echo.
“I’m sure you see a lot of car accidents in your job,” she says.
I freeze for a moment, caught off guard by her sudden change of topic. My mind races, trying to figure out how to respond without revealing too much.
“Yeah, unfortunately, it’s a big part of the job,” I say carefully. “Every accident is different, but they’re all tough to deal with.”
Chloe nods, her eyes distant. “I can’t imagine what it must be like, being the first on the scene, seeing people . . . broken.” She looks at me then, her eyes searching mine. “Have you ever . . . lost anyone? On the job, I mean.”
The question hits me like a punch to the gut. Images flash through my mind: her parents’ mangled car, the smell of gasoline and blood, the way her mother’s hand had gone limp in mine as I tried to pull her from the wreckage. Chloe had been so lucky to have survived that night. No one should have walked away from an accident like that and yet she had.
I take a long swig of my drink, buying time. “Yeah,” I say finally, my voice rough. “It happens. More often than I’d like.”
“I’m sorry,” she says in a way that could melt the most heartless of hearts. “That must be so hard.”
I nod, not trusting myself to speak. The irony of her comforting me about her own parents’ death is almost too much to bear.
“You know,” she continues, her voice thoughtful, “I never got to thank the firefighters who were there that night. When my parents . . .” She trails off, shaking her head. “It’s all a blur.”
My heart pounds so loudly I’m sure she must be able to hear it. I want to tell her. I want to confess everything. But I can’t. Not now, not like this.
Chloe shakes her head, her eyes misty. “This night is becoming a bummer.” She finishes her drink in one gulp, then stands up abruptly. “Why don’t we go for a walk and take in the Christmas lights.”
I hesitate for a moment, caught off guard by her sudden change in mood. But I can’t deny the appeal of spending more time with her, even if it means prolonging this dangerous game.
“Sure,” I say, standing up and reaching for my coat. “Some fresh air might do us both good.”
Chapter Thirteen
Chloe
Shoveling snow, hot chocolate, and now walking beneath the snowflakes of New York. How much more Hallmark movie can you get?
Oh and Jack. He’s a freaking fireman for Christ’s sake.
I shake my head, laughing at the absurdity of it all. Jack catches my eye and grins, his perfect teeth gleaming against the Christmas light-lit sidewalks.
“What’s so funny?” he asks. “Care to share?”
“Nothing,” I reply, trying to suppress my smile. “Just thinking about how perfectly Christmas-y this is. And I’m not exactly the most in the spirit person. I’m two steps away from being a Scrooge.”
Jack chuckles, his breath visible in the frosty air. “Well, we can’t have that, can we? I’ll make it my personal mission to turn you into a regular Cindy Lou Who by Christmas Eve.”
I roll my eyes but can’t help the warmth spreading through my chest. “Good luck with that, Fireman Jack. I’m a tough nut to crack.”
“I love a challenge,” he says, winking at me. “Besides, I have a few tricks up my sleeve.”
As if on cue, I slip on a patch of ice and Jack reaches out and catches me by the arm. I legit slipped, but you couldn’t ask for a better set up.
I steady myself, my hand lingering on Jack’s arm a moment longer than necessary. “Smooth move,” I mutter, both to myself and him. “Is this one of your tricks?”