Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 53529 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 268(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53529 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 268(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
I know she’s right, and she knows I won’t say no. “I need to cool off. Want to take a swim?” The sun is about to go down. It’s the best time to swim across the lake to avoid any boats.
“Sure.” She stands and takes off her shirt, leaving her in her bra. My mouth goes dry at the sight of her large breasts cupped into black lace.
“You’re trying to torture me, aren’t you?”
“Yep.” She slides off her jeans, leaving on her black skimpy panties.
I drink in the sight of her hips and the curve of her waist. “You’re an evil girl.”
She struts out into the living room and points at the back door. “Lake’s that way?”
I nod.
“See you there.”
I look up at the ceiling. “God help me.”
River
What this guy does to me. I’m so pissed off and hurt I could punch his rock-hard abs a thousand times, and it still wouldn’t put a dent in my anger.
But sitting here with Huff again after losing him makes me want to forget all that and just…touch him. Smell his skin. Kiss his lips. I literally crave the warmth of his body on my fingertips. He’s not dead, buried ten feet under. He’s breathing and talking and standing shirtless right here with me.
How am I ever going to let him go again?
But I have to. No matter the outcome of this thing with Morris, Huff seems determined to put our lives on separate paths. He doesn’t want to fight for me, for us. So I’m not going to waste my life, waiting for him to realize how special our relationship is. If he doesn’t see by now that this friendship, our love for each other, is epic, then he doesn’t deserve it.
And I don’t use the epic word lightly. I’ve had crushes and boyfriends. But with Huff, it’s like…he’s my delicious topping. Not a missing piece of my soul. Not a piece of my heart. Because I’m already whole. Nothing broken about me. But when he’s around, my life is just…well, it’s like eating ice cream. Deep, decadent chocolate ice cream. I could eat it and be perfectly happy. But Huff is the whipped cream, caramel goop, and nuts. He takes wonderful to a new level. And that’s what makes us epic. My love for him was never needy or codependent. It was always the topping. Our lives are better together.
So if he doesn’t understand I’m willing to take the risk and be with him because what we have is special, then fine. It hurts like hell, but I have to be a grown-up about this. I can’t force him to believe we might actually stand a chance if we worked as a team to find a solution.
As for me, I’ll never stop thinking about what we could’ve been together. And I’ll always be pissed at him for giving up instead of fighting for us. But I refuse to waste my life, begging him to put aside his fear and to trust in us like he used to.
Which leaves me with one last thing to do: say goodbye. For real this time. Because I’m not about to go through another year of mourning, even if he figures out how to stay alive and out of the hands of the powers that be.
So that’s that. Tonight is the end of the road for us, and if he doesn’t want to have sex with me, what can I say? It’s just further proof that my feelings for him were always stronger. Because no way could I say no to him. In the back of my mind, it was always Huff I’d end up with.
It’s time to let go of childish fantasies. I’m a woman now, almost twenty-two. I have my whole life ahead of me.
I walk to the edge of the dock and look out across the still lake, willing myself to stay strong even if this whole situation hurts. The sun is just about past the horizon behind me, casting dark shadows over the turquoise waters.
“Don’t worry. That’s a deep spot. No rocks or anything,” he says.
I bob my head and dive in. The water is warm, but still soothes away the heat of this place. When I come up for air, Huff dives in and resurfaces a few feet away.
“What do you think?” he asks.
I think I’d like him to kiss me again, but he’s right; we can’t. And I shouldn’t push myself on some guy who doesn’t believe we can make it to the finish line, that we could find a way to be together.
“I think the place is beautiful,” I say, treading water.
“Not as beautiful as you.”
“Don’t, Huff. I’m not your yo-yo.”
“Sorry. Can’t help it.” He treads next to me. “You know, when I was little, my family and I would go on these summer vacations in the mountains, and I’d never leave the cabin. Not to hike or swim or ride horses. This place reminds me of how much I missed out on—what I can’t get back.”