Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 94653 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94653 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
This is how it’s always been between us.
Maybe I don’t know everything, but I can still read her.
There’s something comforting about the realization.
She squeezes her eyes tightly closed. Her chest rises as she draws in a deep breath and holds it captive before releasing it back into the atmosphere.
I fucking hate that she carries around these mental scars from the accident. That it damaged her not only on the outside but inward as well. There’s no way I’ll ever be able to forgive myself for putting her through this.
I swivel toward her. “We can wait until you feel more ready. A week. Two weeks. A month. It doesn’t have to be tonight.”
It’s so tempting to reach out and slide my fingers over her cheek.
Instead, I keep my hands to myself.
I’m terrified of pushing for too much, too soon, and scaring her away. I can’t go back to a lonely life she’s not a part of.
I spent almost five years like that and refuse to do it any longer.
She might not understand that everything changed between us yesterday, but I do. There’s no turning back.
Her eyes spring open as she shakes her head. “No. I won’t give them a reason to sell the Porsche.”
“Then we’ll take it nice and slow.”
She jerks her chin into a tight nod.
When she remains motionless, I lay my hand over her smaller one on the stick before giving it a comforting squeeze. When she doesn’t make a move to dislodge it, I say softly, “I’m going to talk you through it.”
Her gaze flickers in my direction for just a second or two. “All right.”
A mixture of relief and gratitude seeps into her expression, and it fills me with hope. There are flickers of our past within it.
“The first thing you need to do is familiarize yourself with the clutch, brake and accelerator.”
She releases another steady breath before the engine revs.
“See? You found the accelerator. Next time, when you start the engine, you’ll press the clutch all the way down.”
I scootch closer until I can check out the positioning of her feet. She’s wearing well-worn white Chucks.
“We’re going to slide the gear into first.” With a nod, I guide her hand over the stick. “That’s it. Now, you’re going to slowly release—”
When she removes her foot from the clutch too quickly, the car stalls. Her fingers tighten around both the steering wheel and the stick until the knuckles turn bone white.
My voice stays gentle, not wanting to make the situation worse. “It’s fine, Fallyn. No big deal. Let’s try again.”
A puff of air escapes from her. “This is more difficult than I remember.”
“It’s just going to take some time for it to come back to you, but it’ll happen. And then you’ll get your license and Miles’ car will be yours. Just keep the end goal in mind, and don’t get frustrated.”
“I’ll try not to.”
I give her a couple of seconds to pull herself together. “Ready to try again?”
With a sigh, she jerks her head into a reluctant nod.
“Start up the engine. With your foot on the clutch, you’re going to shift into first gear and then slowly lift your foot as you press down on the accelerator with the other. Once the car begins to move forward, release the clutch.”
I keep my hand firmly wrapped around her warm fingers as I guide her into gear.
We get a dozen or so feet before the car stalls, and she groans.
This goes on for about twenty minutes. I can tell that she’s getting discouraged by her inability to smoothly shift the car into first and then second without it dying by the way her lips have flattened into a thin line.
“You’re doing really well,” I tell her, attempting to keep the situation positive.
“Liar,” she grumbles. “I’m terrible at this.”
“Like everything else, it just takes practice. Do you want to take a break or keep going?”
She glances at me. “Just a little bit longer?”
“Sure. No problem,” I say easily.
Fallyn doesn’t realize that I’d sit here all damn night if that’s what she wanted.
It takes another fifteen minutes, but we finally get to the point where she’s able to maneuver the parking lot in circles. She gradually widens them until we reach the outer edges of the pavement. The shift from first to second and then third is a bit choppy before she attempts to downshift.
Then she repeats the process all over again.
Each time gets a little bit smoother.
I’m impressed.
“You’re doing really great!”
A tiny smile curls the edges of her lips as her gaze stays trained on the windshield. When another vehicle enters the parking lot, her fingers clench both the wheel and gear. I give her hand a slight squeeze, hoping to calm her nerves.
I glance at the blue mini-van. “There’s no need to worry. They’re on the other side of the lot. Just keep going.”