Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 84322 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84322 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
It wasn’t like me to be prickly, as he had so casually pointed out. He was right — I was the happy, bubbly girl. The life of the party. I didn’t do conflict. If anything, I did everything I could to avoid the things in my life that were painful.
But there was something about that man that drove me absolutely mad.
And I couldn’t just avoid him.
Not anymore.
“Look,” I snapped. “Maybe you can afford to just take time off and dick around, but I’ve got an outline to review for a podcast I’ll be on in three days that has seven-million listeners per episode on average. Okay? So, please, sit at the bottom of the pool or swim or do whatever you want but just… leave me alone.”
I effectively ignored him then, eyes on my laptop screen as he stood there, water still dripping off his shorts and his hair, pooling at his feet on the stone that surrounded the pool. He stood there for a long while, seemingly waiting for me to look at him again. But when I didn’t, he finally backed away.
“Suit yourself,” he said.
And then, he ran at the pool full speed and launched himself into a cannon ball that sent a splash so high it covered me completely.
The water was warm, but as soon as it hit me, it was immediately cooled by the night air, and I sat there with my mouth open in shock, cardigan sticking to my arms, hair matting my forehead, every inch of me trembling.
Tyler emerged from the water on a laugh, swimming to the edge of the pool again. “Oh, shit, Jaz,” he said, still laughing, and I hated the way my stomach flipped at him using my nickname, at how I relived a thousand summer nights with the sound of his deep-chested laugh. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
But I didn’t listen. My lips pursed, I slammed my laptop shut again, thankful that it had at least been spared from the splash for the most part. It had a little water on the keyboard and screen, but not enough to hurt it, and I held it away from the soaked parts of myself as I stood and stormed toward the house.
“Jaz, wait!” Tyler was still laughing, but he turned more serious as he heaved himself out of the pool and tried to chase after me. “Come on, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to,” I mocked, turning long enough to look him dead in the eyes when I said, “Where have I heard those excuses before?”
That stopped Tyler in his tracks, and we both stood still in that yard, staring at each other, the meaning of my accusation loud and clear between us. In that moment, I didn’t see the new man Tyler had become since I’d left Bridgechester. I saw the boy who scarred me.
“I’m sorry, Jaz. I… I didn’t mean to. It was a mistake. We shouldn’t tell anyone.”
Tyler’s voice quivered on the phone, and so did my bottom lip as I tried to fight back the surge of emotion his words conjured up.
My graduation cap and gown hung together over my closet door in the small bedroom I’d lived in for the past four years. It wasn’t much, but my aunt had done everything she could to help me make it my own.
Sitting alone on my bed with Tyler on the other end of the phone telling me he didn’t want me rang too close to the sentiment my mother had told me only days before.
I didn’t want any more apologies.
I didn’t want any more excuses for why no one ever chose me.
All I wanted in that moment was to burn my graduation gown and the picture of me and my mother on my bedside table and the memory of Tyler’s hands on me and the entire town of Bridgechester, too.
I wanted to leave and never look back.
And I decided right then and there, that’s exactly what I would do.
I swallowed as I waited for Tyler to respond, the flash of that life-changing moment hitting me like a semi-truck. Still, I stood tall, chin high, and when he didn’t take his chance to explain, I turned on my heel and made my way back inside the house without another look in his direction.
He didn’t try to stop me this time.
“Hey, gorgeous,” Jacob said the next morning, his lazy grin filling my laptop’s screen once our call loaded. The instant I saw his smile and his messy, just-woke-up shag of strawberry blond hair, I smiled.
“Not so gorgeous right now,” I pointed out, gesturing to the sweaty bird’s nest of a bun on top of my head and the lack of makeup, lack of sleep, lack of anything remotely close too cute. I hadn’t even showered since my run this morning, and I was glad he couldn’t smell me through the screen.