Just One More Touch Read Online W. Winters, Willow Winters

Categories Genre: Romance Tags Authors: ,
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Total pages in book: 155
Estimated words: 145634 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 728(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 485(@300wpm)
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I massage the lotion into my other leg as I think about how Julie had to be told that a nobody was taking her part. If I was her, I’d be pissed.

“I think she started the rumor about you and Nate anyway.”

It’s weird that everyone calls him Nate. My nose scrunches at the thought of calling him that.

“Did she really?” I ask her and she shrugs. My brow’s pinched at the thought of Julie starting rumors. But then again, I don’t know her either.

“Probably,” she answers and then tosses the empty bottle into the small bin right next to the fridge. “She saw the way he looked at you,” she adds as she opens the fridge for another. “You want a drink?” she asks me, looking over her shoulder.

I shake my head no. A frown forces its way onto my face until my lips are puckered, while I rub the remainder of the lotion into my hands and ignore the fact that Julie may have started a rumor that Nathan and I used to date. It’s true, so it doesn’t matter much really.

“You didn’t tell anyone, did you?” I ask Lydia as the thought occurs to me. Her brow furrows as she shakes her head. Her long black hair sways back and forth with the forceful motion. “Not a soul,” she answers.

My clothes are on the seat of the chair. Just a pair of black leggings and a baggy t-shirt with, "Coffee first!” printed on the front in a swirly font. Lydia takes the hint before I even have to tell her and she falls onto the small bed and stares at the ceiling as I get dressed.

“So, are you two,” Lydia hesitates to finish, but she does, “like, back together?”

It’s quiet for a moment as I take in the knowledge that rumors are going around, and to be very honest with myself, I don’t even know what to make of Nathan and me. I’m drowning in my emotions and waiting for him to make the next move. Maybe that’s a mistake.

“I don’t know what we are,” I tell her as I bend over and towel dry my hair before wrapping it up and sitting it on my head. The large motions cue her to look back at me and she cracks up laughing.

“You look too ridiculous with that thing on your head to be talking like that.” I can’t find it in me to laugh with her. I want to. I don’t want to feel this anxiety and uncertainty. I’ve only ever had that in my life with Nathan. Only him.

“Seriously, it can’t be that bad,” Lydia says as she appears to tune into my mood. “You guys got into a fight and broke up on bad terms.”

I shrug and then take a seat at the vanity. I want to unload everything. It’s like a weight on my chest that won’t get the hell off.

“Did he cheat on you?” she asks.

“No,” I answer as I put my elbow on the edge of the chair and then my chin in my palm.

“Did he hurt you?” she asks and I’m quiet. I almost say no out of instinct, but he did. He made me feel like it was all my fault. Like I couldn’t talk to anyone about it. I swallow the lump growing in my throat and let out the breath I’ve been holding.

“Not physically.” I stare at the ceiling and wait for her to say something, but I’m greeted with silence.

I lower my head, balancing the stupid towel and then finally reach up to just take it down, running my hands through my damp hair.

“What did he do?” Lydia asks with a crestfallen expression.

“He tried to save me,” I tell her, remembering that night and how he was my knight in shining armor. But knights come in times of war and their armor doesn’t survive without scratches, or dents. Without blood.

Lydia sits up on the bed with a deep sigh. She hunches forward with her elbows on her knees and her hands on her forehead before looking back at me. “I don’t know if you’re being melodramatic or if something insane happened. I’m lost here, Harlow.”

“He did the right thing. It’s just that the right thing wasn’t good, and it made us …” I can’t finish. It tore us apart. It made us see how foolish we were. It showed how stupid I was and how destructive we were together.

“But that was back then,” Lydia says. “Ten years ago,” she adds, raising her voice.

I understand how ridiculous it is. “Yeah, I just haven’t seen him since.”

“Well, can you put it behind you?” she asks as I stare at the thin carpet on the floor.

“I think he’d like to pretend it never happened,” I tell her honestly. I can’t explain why it hurts my chest so badly to think about just erasing that night.


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