Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 96586 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96586 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
But…
But how crazy is it that she’s starting her life over at the exact same time I’m starting mine over?
How fucking insane is it that in spite of our very different circumstances – she definitely has all her shit together – we still managed to end up on the same path.
Collide.
What if this is our real second shot at shit?
What if after all this time I can finally stop just thinking about my favorite high and actually fucking have her again?
Chapter 8
Presley
Discussion Topic 4: Don’t Run From Your Past…
“You ran away?!” Katherine squawks in disbelief from the other end of the phone.
“Like an 80’s pop ballad.”
“Remember that A Flock Of Seagulls cover band we closed the bar down with like a month into our friendship?”
I remember her having a quickie in the back of their literal shaggin’ wagon with the lead vocalist, while I had a surprisingly deep discussion with their shockingly young manager about Pablo Neruda.
Oh!
Maybe I should get a book of his poetry for my new shelves!
His “Sonnet LXVI: I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You” is pretty much the literal story of me and Ry.
Ohmygod…
Ryder.
Ryder fucking Collins.
How the hell did I not see this coming?
Reaching for my third s’more Pop-Tart of the day is done at the same time I concur, “Yeah. We used to see a lot of cover bands back then.”
“We should get back to doing that shit again,” Katherine casually declares. “Maybe some good 90s grunge bands.” Her pause isn’t brief enough for me reply. “Or, I guess, just go see some of the actual ones since everyone is making comeback tours nowadays.”
Helplessly smiling is followed by a bite of the pasty.
“And now that we’re on the subject of comeback tours-”
“How is it you possible you can always make that fucking segue?” I grouse through my mouthful.
“I knew you had been running from your past, darling, but to physically run is ridiculous.”
Who the fuck is she telling?
I’m the one who ran out of a building full of grown ass people and acquired three new bruises in the process.
Stupid sliding door not sliding fast enough.
Gross cigarette trashcan by the curb.
And the world’s worst steering wheel.
It should’ve been on my side yesterday!
The mirth in her tone is impossible to ignore, “I guess it’s safe to say that all those gym afternoons with Xander really paid off.”
“Not funny, Kat.”
Her huff of irritation causes me to smile in victory.
It’s a small one.
But fuck it.
After sprinting away from my ex, having three different delivery dudes bring food to me – prompting security to verify if I was indeed alright – and watching Runaway Bride while sobbing uncontrollably into an eggroll I need any win I can get.
“You should’ve stuck around, darling. Tried talking to him. Or perhaps yelling at him. Or – and this one is going to sound very controversial – politely dismissing yourself from a situation you were not mentally prepared to handle. You didn’t have to physically run.”
And look like a complete idiot I’m sure she wants to add.
“How did you not know he was Merrick’s roommate?”
“Merrick literally just calls him ‘his roommate’. No name has ever been mentioned.”
“And Ryder had no clue you were his boss? Has he never mentioned you by name?”
“He has a real strong habit of just calling me boss or boss lady.”
“Hm,” she hums softly prior to pointing out, “I wonder why Noah didn’t mention it to him, especially if he thought you two were great together when you were younger.”
Valid question.
Also…now that she brings it up – a phrase I am starting to loathe – is that how his letter made it to me?
Through Noah?
No.
Wait.
If that were the case, it would’ve been in my office mail.
Staff and families – Katherine aside – don’t have my home information.
“I understand how difficult it can be to confront your past, darling, but you absolutely need to. Collect your thoughts. Compose your deepest suppressed desires. And finally face your past.”
“God,” my exasperated mutter is between bites, “you make it sound so much easier than it is.”
“It is my job as your best friend to help you through the really hard shit in your life, Presley. This is…undoubtedly very difficult. Redefining you, rediscovering you, embracing all the different parts of you – past and present – is not an easy process. It’s also one that many individuals – women especially – can benefit from having a guided hand during the journey, which is why my next book that I’m working on will be touching on all those things. Your bravery will be used to inspire others to find or retake their own.”
Ugh.
It is so no mystery why people flock from all around the world to hear her give a seminar.
An unexpected knock on my door is followed by Clemmy swinging her head around the blockade. “Delivery’s here, boss.”