Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 127712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 639(@200wpm)___ 511(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 639(@200wpm)___ 511(@250wpm)___ 426(@300wpm)
“A girl, Locke? You did this over a girl?”
That’s what he said to me.
What happened that summer was because of a girl. But not in the way he thought. But even if it was the way he thought, he wouldn’t hold it against me.
Didn’t hold it against me.
Still isn’t holding it against me. Obviously, since we live together.
Olsen used to ask me questions about our living arrangements all the time. “What if you get married? Will you just move your wife in there?”
Mmm. Maybe.
This makes me smile and Nova must feel it, because she lifts her head up off my shoulder to look at me. “What are you smiling about?”
I let out a breath. Because the whole point of Nova Ryan that year was to share her with him. And while we did have our moments, it wasn’t what I was hoping for.
Five years after that last and final fight where Nova walked away, I’ve made no progress at all in this regard.
If I had to blame someone, I’d blame Olsen. He was the one who flipped shit around on me. It was that night. The night of Nova’s one-month check-in.
Well, it wasn’t the night’s fault.
It was our fault.
And what we did that night changed everything. I’m sure it was that night. It changed things for Nova.
“I’m thinking about the good times.” I blurt this out like she just asked me what was on my mind, even though she didn’t.
Nova tsks her tongue at me. “You literally just told me, like… less than an hour ago, that we don’t talk about the past.”
“Yeah, but I’m not talking about it. I’m just… thinking about it.”
She slides off my lap and back into her own seat, reaching down to collect her panties and slide them back up her legs. She cocks her head at me, a crooked smile on her face. “Wanna go inside?”
I love that she can put it aside. That I can admit a truth to her and she just absorbs it without asking questions.
Of course, that’s part of why we’re in this weird situation in the first place. She and Mercer are so much more alike than they will ever admit.
I tuck my dick away, ignore the wet spot on my pants, and zip up. Then grab my bag from the Jeep and we go inside.
I noticed that the living room is different than earlier, but it was only in a casual way. I was maybe a little bit distracted by her ass. And her tits. And, well, pretty much everything about her distracts me. I set my bag by the door while she puts her purse on the kitchen counter and gets a glass of water.
“You’ve remodeled.”
“Mmm-hmmm.” She hums this as she drinks. Then she refills the glass and offers it to me. “Want some?”
I shake my head. “It looks nice.” It does look nice. New pale-yellow paint on the walls. But the trim is all dark gray. Same as the kitchen cabinets. The floors are the original hand-scraped wood, but refinished to a lighter color. The fireplace has new stone that goes all the way up to the ceiling, round river rocks that are much softer than the red brick that used to be there, and long sprigs of dried lavender bunches hang from the rustic log mantel, pulling it all together.
It’s very… Nova.
“Everything was redone. I was disappointed when you didn’t mention it immediately. I chose things based on what I know you like. Mostly what I like,” she amends. “But I did consider you. My bedroom got a little screened-in porch addition and a new bathroom.”
She stops to send me a chastising look for not noticing that. Maybe her house was a little dark this morning when I showed up because of the shutters, but the bathroom was illuminated. Again, in my defense, my mind was on sex, not décor.
“And Veda got a bay window reading nook. Even the guest room was redone.”
I’m stuck on her words. Based on what you like. Considered you. I look it all over again and note the quality of the finishes. I do like it. A lot, actually. But none of it is anything like the place Mercer and I share. Maybe that was the point? “Business must be booming.”
Nova absently pushes in a chair at the breakfast table and starts gathering up some coloring pages left behind by Veda. “It is going well, but I didn’t pay for this.” She stops fussing and finally gets to the point. “Olsen did.”
“Ah. I feel like he’s a bigger part of your life than you’ve let on.”
“He is.”
“So what are you doing, Nova?”
She shrugs. “We had something. Didn’t we?”
“We did. But…” I shrug as well.
“It doesn’t have to be over. We could start again. To fresh starts and new beginnings. Sound familiar?”