Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 122216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 611(@200wpm)___ 489(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 611(@200wpm)___ 489(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
I pull out my phone to call Grams to let her know I’ve landed, but it goes straight to voicemail. The heck? Then I see a text from her. What is up with her texting all the sudden?
Grams: I’m sending someone to pick you up.
Dang. She really must be slammed if she can’t even come to pick me up. I fire a text back asking her who she sent before I make my way to the exit.
There’s another message, but I don’t bother opening the text from my roommate. She always has something to complain about. When I told her about me heading out of town at the last second, she even complained about that. I thought she’d be happy that I wasn’t going to be there for a while. Then again, who’s going to clean up after her? She has a built-in maid. I’ve tried to let her messiness go, but I can’t. She leaves her crap everywhere. Our place isn't giant, so I don’t have much of a choice but to clean up after her. It’s going to be a vacation in itself being away from her.
I suck in a breath when the cold air hits me. Sometimes I forget how cold it can actually get here. I don’t hate it. I just didn’t keep that in mind when I left for the airport. I was in such a hurry that I forgot my winter coat altogether.
When Grams doesn’t text me back, I glance around to see who she might have sent. My heart stops when I catch sight of Knox. I quickly look away. I’m not even in Reindeer Valley yet, and I’m already running into him! Why the heck is the universe so cruel? He’s the main reason I never come home to begin with. Not that I would ever in my life admit that out loud to anyone.
I turn to give him my back, knowing he likely won’t recognize me. He barely gave me the time of day in high school. He’d been a few grades above me and ran with the rich crowd. All the girls loved him, and all the boys wanted to be him. I hated that I had also fallen into that category. There was always something about Knox that drew my eyes to him no matter how hard I tried to look away.
Then he’d gone and broken my heart. I hadn’t even realized how in love with him I was back then. Not until I’d overheard him speaking badly about me. His words had crushed me. It hadn’t helped that a few days prior he’d actually been kind to me. I had this small flame of hope that he might like me, too.
I was a silly girl then. I might still be, because it’s taking everything inside of me to not turn back around and take another glance at him for old time’s sake. He’s bigger than I remember. The years have been good to him. I didn’t think it was possible for him to be any handsomer than he was in high school, but I was wrong.
It doesn’t matter. If I’m lucky, I won’t run into him again. Once he picks up whoever he’s waiting for—I ignore the twinge of jealousy that ignites at the thought of him waiting for a girlfriend or, even worse, a wife—he’ll be gone, and then I can find my ride. Problem solved.
“Ruby Lane.” My stomach plummets at the familiar deep voice. I try to convince myself that he didn't just say my name. I don’t turn around. Maybe if I ignore him, he’ll go away. I pretend to be seriously invested in my phone.
“Red,” he calls again. This time his voice is closer than before. I can actually feel him come up behind me.
“What’s so interesting on your phone?” he asks. Before I know what’s happening, he has it in his hand.
“Hey!” I spin around and try to grab it back from him.
I jump for it, but it’s pointless. He holds it up over his head where I’ll never reach it in a million years. Not that I don’t still try. I probably look like an idiot.
“Where is your coat?” He glares down at me.
Of course the first time I run into him I look like crap. I’m in sweats and sneakers. My hair is piled on top of my head, and I don’t have a speck of makeup on my face. He looks as handsome as ever, but something is different. His hair is a bit unruly, and I don’t think he’s shaved today. In high school, he was always so put together all the time. Of course he’s more handsome this way. It’s a bunch of bullcrap that he doesn’t even have to try to look good.
“I have a sweater on.” I make another jump for my phone when it starts to ring in his hand.