Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 56831 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56831 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Then a couple named Lark and Dylan came in, who I’d met when we first arrived. They pulled two enormous pans of lasagna out of the oven and put in four cookie sheets lined with garlic bread as Lark announced, “Dinner’s in ten minutes! We’ve set the tables in the backyard since we’re such a big group tonight, but it’s a little chilly. Grab a throw blanket or an extra jacket on your way outside. You’ll find both stacked beside the back door.”
I expected Timothy to forget about me now that his friends were here. Instead, he linked his arm with mine and said, “Let’s hurry, before all the cute coats are gone. I don’t feel like going all the way upstairs for one of mine, and some of the loaners are a crime against fashion.”
In all, there were twenty-one people at dinner. In addition to the seven who lived there, most of the others were former residents of the pink Victorian. Apparently this was a weekly thing with a core group who always attended, and others who came as often as they could.
The food was great, and I enjoyed the company and the conversation. But after we ate, I pulled Jack and Reno aside and told them I was headed home. My brother immediately looked concerned and asked, “Are you alright, kid?”
I assured him I was fine, but he still offered to go back to the townhouse with me. “Actually, I could use a little time to myself,” I admitted. “It’s been a while since I’ve been around so many people, and my social batteries are nearly empty.”
He was too much of an extrovert to get it, but Jack did. He gave me his key and said, “We’ll be home in about an hour. This usually doesn’t run very late.”
“Is it alright if I use your bathroom while you’re gone? I could really go for a long, hot bath.” I was freezing, and the townhouse’s smaller downstairs bathroom didn’t have a tub.
“Of course,” Jack said. “Help yourself to my bubble bath, too. I just bought a good one that’ll make your skin feel fabulous. It’s supposed to smell like mango and passionfruit though, but really it just smells like strawberries.”
I thanked him and went to say goodbye to Timothy, who made me promise to show up at that class on Tuesday. Then I thanked my hostesses before cutting through the house and heading out the front door.
It had gotten dark during dinner, and the breeze had picked up. I wrapped my arms around myself as I hurried up the hill.
Once I got to the townhouse, I went straight upstairs. Most of the top floor consisted of a spacious main bedroom and its adjoining bathroom, which were by far the nicest rooms in this place.
On accident, I poured in too much bubble bath as the tub filled. A thick mass of white bubbles formed as I quickly stripped down. Jack was right, it smelled like strawberries, despite what the label claimed.
It felt wonderful when I lowered myself into the water, which was right on the verge of being too hot. I leaned back, exhaled slowly, and closed my eyes. That moment of peace was short-lived though, because my thoughts immediately drifted to Marcus.
I sighed and sunk lower into the bubbles.
It was an ongoing struggle not to think about him constantly. I tried to keep myself distracted, but as soon as I let my guard down, there he was. I’d replayed every day we’d spent together over and over, dissecting everything he’d said and done, and I was still trying to make sense of it all. Now here I was, climbing back on that same treadmill.
I ended up staying in the bath and mentally going around in circles until the water cooled. Eventually, I realized my brother and his fiancé would be home soon, so I climbed out of the tub and pulled the plug on the drain. After I dried off, I wrapped a towel around my hips and gathered my clothes and shoes into a bundle before leaving the bathroom.
In the main bedroom, a chair and side table were positioned beside a pair of French doors leading to a balcony. Someone had left a mug there, on top of a stack of books, so I decided to be helpful and take it to the kitchen. But when I went to retrieve it, I got distracted by one of the books and began reading the blurb on the back cover.
An odd sound caught my attention, and I looked up from the book and tried to figure out what I’d heard. When it happened again, I realized something had bounced off the glass doors. I put my things on the chair and went out onto the narrow balcony to investigate.
I stepped on a small, smooth pebble and kicked it aside. Then I leaned over the railing and looked around. The closest streetlight was out, so it was darker than it should have been.