Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 108636 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 543(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108636 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 543(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
“Why not?” I scoff. If you ask me, the time to talk about it was yesterday. Or fuck, before the messages even started in the first place.
The position she’s put us in…it’s tenuous. We’re in a dark room with no windows, fire licking at our heels, and I don’t know if there’s a way out. I don’t know if there’s a way back.
“Because we’re at work. Because people are going to notice we’re missing soon,” she fires back. “Because Avery likes to hang out in this closet so your dad can’t find her and assign her anything.”
“Sounds like a list of cheap excuses just so you can avoid—”
As if on prompt, June is launched forward by the door swinging open, and I have to catch her by the biceps to keep both of us from crashing into the shelf behind me. Even this simple touch feels different now, my palms burning at the feel of her soft skin.
My sister scoots inside, her eyebrows drawing together at the sight of us.
“What in the hell are you guys doing? Are you having some kind of work-nerd meeting in here? Because I claimed this spot a long time ago. June agreed to the verbal contract.”
June’s eyes widen in terror for a long moment as she tries to come up with an answer, her lashes skirting the bottom of her eyebrows. My jaw grinds slightly with annoyance at my involuntary position in this mess of secrets, but I step in for her anyway, throwing out the first thing I think of.
“Avoiding Bethany. She’s here for lunch with Seth.”
I hate that it makes me sound like I give a single fucking shit about the two of them, but after running into her earlier, it’s the first thing that came to mind.
Avery snorts. “Okayyy. Probably don’t need to be in this closet anymore, then. I just came by his office, and they were in there with the door closed, if you know what I mean.”
I roll my eyes. “We know what you mean.”
Avery laughs, raising two well-manicured hands in front of herself. “Right. Well, sorry. Don’t mean to be insensitive, but she whines like an alley cat when she’s trying to be quiet and come at the same time.” She waves in front of her face. “Oh, well. I guess you know that.”
I glance at June to see her tucking her hair behind her ears nervously. I don’t want her to get the idea that I’m still hung up on Bethany because I don’t give a fuck about Bethany. But if she wants this to be a secret from Avery, I’m not sure what else to do.
I’m not going to get any answers like this—not with Avery here—and ending June’s misery seems like the only considerate thing to do.
Being patient seems impossible, but eventually, she’s going to have to talk to me. With how intertwined our lives already are, it’s a physical certainty.
“I better get back to work,” I say, excusing myself and stepping toward the door.
Avery nods. “Yeah, you’d better. There’s only room for one Banks in this closet, and I called dibs a long time ago.”
I don’t want to leave it like this with June, but I have no choice. We’ll finish this later.
But later had better be soon.
Pride and Prejudice has always been one of June’s favorite books. When I was a teenager and she was a kid, she used to carry a worn copy around with her to read every chance she got. Something about the enigmatic Elizabeth Bennet resonated with her, and now, I imagine that’s why she chose ElizaBeth as her username on Midnight.
Maybe it was the confidence she wished she had, or maybe it was feeling like the black sheep of her family. I don’t know.
But I know tonight, as I step out of my Escalade in my parents’ packed driveaway, that the Mr. Darcy costume I’ve chosen to wear isn’t a coincidence.
It’s a decision.
One I’ve been mulling over for the past forty-eight hours. Juniper Perry is my Mystery Woman, and every time I’ve pondered that reality, only one thing has been clear—I can’t stop thinking about her.
I’ve pictured a million different scenarios of how this could go down, and every damn time, I’ve ended up back in the same place.
Yes, June is my little sister’s best friend, and I’ve spent most of my life seeing her as just that. Yes, I should probably be mad at her for violating my trust, for initiating our Midnight messages and hiding her true identity.
But things are different now.
She’s different now. And I can’t find a single scenario in which walking away from her makes me feel good. Truth be told, the connection we built through our messages wasn’t superficial. It was deep and intense, and I can’t let everything we’ve spent the last two months building go to waste. I don’t want to go back to the way things were before.