Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Wendy stood. “Deflection at its best. I’ll have them in your email in less than thirty minutes. I need to pull one more.”
Using a cheerful voice, I said, “Thank you, Wendy.”
She turned to leave, then looked back at me. “Brighton, when will you guys go public? Aren’t you tired of living this other life?”
Other life? If only it were that simple. I could handle not telling my family and friends I was dating Luke. I would tell them eventually. It wasn’t like I’d never done this before.
What really scared me was what would happen once the world found out Luke Walters was dating a lawyer who worked for his father’s firm. Not that Luke shared any information about his personal life. He was vague, stating he liked his privacy and his family liked theirs, and from what I could tell, the press mostly respected that.
Yet, at the same time, it was beginning to feel like I had been cast in a role I hadn’t planned on auditioning for. I would never in a million years regret falling in love with Luke. Never regret the decision to run off to Maine with him, even after finding out who he was. But…Luke had hinted that once the world found out about us, our happy bubble would burst and things wouldn’t be the same. And when I’d Googled him and read about some of his past relationships, I learned they’d never lasted for more than a few months.
Was it because once the world snuck in everything changed?
I shook my head. No, I would never regret falling in love with Luke. But how long could I honestly keep pretending we were in a normal relationship before it started to eat at me? I could feel the real world closing in on us—Lord, could I feel it. I had simply gotten really good at ignoring that it would eventually happen.
Wendy cleared her throat, drawing me out of my thoughts. I glanced at her, standing there with her hands on her hips and a look that demanded an answer to her question. With another practiced and forced smile, I replied, “When the time is right, we’ll go public with our relationship.”
“Will he move to Boston?” she asked.
Her question threw me, and I blinked a few times. With a curt laugh, I replied, “I don’t intend on moving to LA.”
She nodded, then gave me a weak smile before she softly shut the door.
My entire body shook as a chill raced through me. Why had I never thought that far ahead? Was this what our relationship would be like? Me in Boston, Luke in California?
I dropped back in my seat and massaged my temples in an effort to ease the sudden pounding in my head.
The sounds of the harbor slowly drifted up as I sat on Luke’s balcony, a beer in my hand. Since Luke had been out of town for so long, I’d started to stay at his place so I could smell him on his pillows or slip one of his shirts on and feel closer to him. I had thought about staying at my house tonight, but I’d somehow found myself at his door, unlocking it with the key he’d given me. I’d ordered takeout and sat outside, thinking. And thinking, and thinking.
I wasn’t even sure what in the hell I was thinking about anymore. A part of me longed to call Willa. To tell her everything, so I could get advice. Why was I so nervous to talk to Willa about Luke? She was my best friend. I tried to put on the front that I had my shit together. I always pretended that I was strong enough to handle everything. Yet, I was so tired and felt so alone. I wasn’t even aware of anything anymore. The sudden weight of the world felt heavy on my shoulders. I didn’t want to be strong at that moment. I was confused and unsure of what exactly I had gotten myself into by falling in love with Luke. An actor. A very famous actor. And right now, all I wanted was for him to hold me in his arms and tell me everything was okay.
That made me feel weak, which in turn pissed me off, but it was okay to not be strong. To need someone else to comfort me.
I sighed as I glanced at my phone on the table. I had called Luke three times after seeing the picture on Wendy’s phone. When he didn’t return any of my calls, I texted him. When I got no response, I did what any other pissed-off girlfriend would do. I turned off my phone, ordered Chinese takeout, and then ate a pint of Ben & Jerry’s Cherry Garcia ice cream while I pouted and drowned my sorrow in beer.