Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95393 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95393 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
“Hey, pretty girl,” I greet, bringing her to me. My eyes are at the door as I watch Matthew bend and kiss Rain and then see Koda walk in. I swear on everything I have that everything leaves my body. She smiles at something he says as she turns to the side to hug my aunt, who is there to greet her. She wears black jeans with a white shirt tucked in and what looks like an army jacket crop top, but the sleeves flare out at the wrists. Her hair is loose and looks like it did last night when I almost fucking kissed her. Luckily for me, Luna squirms out of my arms to go see my father, who has called her over.
“Uncle Christopher.” Rain comes over to me right away. I bend and pick her up, just like I did Luna. “I brought my puck,” she says, and I shake my head.
“For what?” I shriek, ignoring the pull to look back over at Koda. My heart beats faster and faster as I try not to listen to her voice that seems to be coming closer and closer to me.
“So you can sign it.” She turns in my arms. “Mommy, can I have my puck?” She frees herself from my arms, going to her mother, who now stands very close to me but not close enough. I lift the hat off my head to keep my hands busy from touching her. Or leaning into her to kiss her cheek, or to slide my arms around her shoulders while I pull her to me.
“Sorry,” she mumbles as she opens her purse and hands her the puck with a silver Sharpie. “I told her you could sign it another time.”
“No,” my father says, “get it today.” He grabs a piece of bread out of the basket.
“This is your idea?” I ask as I take the puck and the pen, signing my name.
“Yeah,” he declares proudly as I hand her back the puck. She holds it in her hand and smiles so big I would sign a puck daily if it made her smile like that.
“Thank you, thank you.” She turns and walks over to Koda, who has moved away from me and now chats with my aunt about something.
“Mommy, here,” she says to Koda as she hands the puck to her. “Can you put this in your purse and make sure you don’t lose it?” She opens her purse and sticks it back in, then walks back and places her purse at the door before coming back. She totally avoids looking in my direction, totally avoids that I’m standing right here in the middle of the room, and she has yet to say hello to me. She probably thinks I’m a fucking creep as she walks back over to my aunt and mother, continuing the conversation. My hands ball into fists beside me as I try to talk myself out of going up to her and asking her if I can talk to her.
“You okay?” I hear from beside me, turning to see my father looking at me with a weird expression.
“I’m fine,” I snap, not paying attention to anything because I’m trying to calm myself down. I just need a minute to myself. “I’ll be back,” I tell him, walking toward the stairs and going up them, where I hope to just sit for a minute and get myself together. I find the bathroom, locking the door, and sit on the edge of the bath, hoping like fuck whatever is going on inside me stops. Knowing that whatever it is, I need to get over it because it will never happen. Knowing that whatever I am feeling I have to stop. I don’t want to have these feelings. I lean forward, my head hanging down. “I can’t do it.” I look at myself in the mirror, avoiding looking in my eyes because no matter how much I tell myself I can’t do it, my heart tells me that maybe, just maybe, I can.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
dakota
I walk out of my Pilates class at the same time the phone rings in my hand. Turning it over, I see it’s Zara Stone calling me. My heart races in my chest as I wonder why she would be calling me. I mean, over the years we have spoken on the phone, but that was only to talk to her about a dress I wanted to buy from her for an event. “Hello,” I say, putting the phone to my ear, my hands starting to shake as I do so.
“Koda.” Her soft voice comes through, and I can tell she’s on speaker. “How are you?”
“Hey.” I unlock my door and climb into the driver’s side. “I’m good. How are you?” I try not to sound like I’m frazzled by her calling. My immediate thought is something is wrong with Christopher, and I don’t want to think about anything bad happening to him.