Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
It has nothing on the wonderment in front of me.
When I slot my backside onto a breakfast stool under the counter, Laken shyly grins before shifting his focus back to the pancakes. He works in silence over the next several minutes, his creations plucked from the plate at his side before they’ve had the chance to cool.
“This is the last batch, Nicole, so if you want some, you better beat back the masses and let your voice be heard.”
Something about his statement doubles the output of my heart.
I can’t pinpoint exactly what, though.
I drop my eyes to my mug when Laken cranks his head back. “Coffee is about all my stomach can handle right now.”
He nods like he understands the cause of the swirls of my stomach before setting down a plate of bacon in front of me. “And bacon. Bacon and coffee are the only things needed to cure a hangover.”
Before I can ask him how he knows I’m hungover, a voice at the side asks, “Did someone say bacon?”
Knox enters the kitchen a second before the excessive amount of aftershave he placed on and plucks up a strip of bacon from the plate, crunching through it with his teeth. The crispiness of the salty strip being eradicated should drown out the growl Laken hits Knox with. It is as apparent as the tension that deprives the air of oxygen when Knox presses his lips to my temple.
“I need to head out for a few hours. Will you be all right here, or do you want to come with me?”
Laken appears prepared to answer on my behalf, so I speak quickly. “I’m good here.” Before I can configure a reason for the relief on Laken’s face, I accidentally wipe it off. “I promised River I’d join him for a movie marathon.”
Knox’s growl is as rumbling as the one Laken released only moments ago.
It annoys me as much as it does Laken.
“I tried to save you.” After plucking a second strip of bacon off the plate under grumbled protest from Laken, Knox salutes me before exiting the kitchen as fast as he entered.
It takes several long seconds for the tension to drop low enough for me to speak. “Is everything okay? I didn’t do something stupid last night, did I?”
God, please don’t let me have done something as stupid as sleep with Knox.
I will never forgive myself if I did something so foolish.
Although Laken’s reply liberates me of worry, it also piques my suspicion. “You weren’t the one doing stupid shit.” His smile is only half the size of his earlier one. “Eat, Nicole. You’ll need the energy.”
“You need energy to watch a movie?”
Now his smile is more prominent than ever. “You do when it comes to River.”
Hating that I’m pacing in my room, waiting for the clock to strike two like a loser without a date, I unravel the strand of hair I curled around my index finger and walk to my bed.
The lyrics I’ve been encountering nonstop over the past six days are still coming in strong and fast, but they’re a little different today—more about second chances and forgiveness than the one who got away.
“Where are you?” I murmur to myself when my dig through the blanket folded at the foot of the mattress fails to find my songbook.
A hotel employee serviced my room while I was showering, so everything is where it is meant to be except my songbook.
Laken wouldn’t have taken it again, would he?
He couldn’t be so cruel. River said he cares about the people he loves, so why would he hurt me twice in one week?
I freeze when I realize how deranged my inner monologue is.
Laken doesn’t love me.
He hardly knows me.
I’m the only fool carrying a torch for someone who hurt me.
My limbs harden further when a snippet of a memory smacks into me as fast as a bolt of lightning brightening the sky.
You mean too fucking much to me to sit back and watch you fall.
Another revelation quickly follows the first.
You’re scared of falling because you think no one will be there to catch you. Lyrics flood me when the remainder of Laken’s promise is unearthed. That might have been true a week ago, but it isn’t anymore.
The memories slowly trickling into my mind are foggy but clear enough for me to slant my head to the pillow I lay on last night.
The surge of euphoria thickening my veins tells me I don’t need to search my songbook when I find it safely tucked under my pillow, but I can’t help but check.
Laken made the first song I’d penned in over a year better. He added the beat it needed without overwhelming the lyrics.
He made it a Nicole Reed original hit.
Regretfully the only musical compositions in my songbook are the ones I placed there, but mercifully they push another memory to the forefront of my mind.