Total pages in book: 215
Estimated words: 199344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 997(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 199344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 997(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
God. I wish I could be that for her again.
The song comes to an end, and as I sail through the streets, I find myself starting it over, because I’m nothing if not a sucker for punishment. I drive for another ten minutes, and when I come to a stop and stare out my window, I find it’s not my house I’m looking up at.
It’s Zoey’s.
19
Noah
Considering Zoey is now more than aware of my stalker tendencies when it comes to her and my antics over the past few years, I don’t bother wasting time knocking on the door. Instead, I climb straight up the side of the house and to her window.
I’m not exactly in the mood to deal with her father tonight, not that he’s a bad guy or anything, but I haven’t got a single doubt that he would tell me to fuck off. Well, maybe not quite that way, but the idea would be there, demanding I speak to Zoey at school rather than keep her up. And I’m damn sure he’s not going to approve the idea of sneaking in through her bedroom window instead. So, for now, this little visit will be kept on the down-low.
Glancing into her room, I find her curled up in bed, her blankets pulled up to her chin as she lays on her side with one arm scooped beneath her pillow.
I shouldn’t be here. I should be giving her space after everything that went down tonight. That kiss meant something, but then I also broke her heart all over again, and that pain has got to be sitting fresh in her mind. Just as raw and painful as it’s always been.
Gripping the bottom of the window, I pull it open, having to give it a slight wiggle to get past the mangled lock that Zoey and I broke when we were kids. Sliding it up, I slip inside her bedroom, and the second my feet hit the ground, a fearful gasp sails across the room. “It’s just me,” I tell her, not wanting her to assume the worst, but I know she did. What else would she think seeing a man climb through her window in the middle of the night?
Zoey lets out a sleepy groan, needing a moment for her heart to stop racing, and when she does, she scrambles up her bed, sitting a little higher against her pillows and staring at me through the darkness. She grips her blankets to her chest, much like she’d held on to her towel to keep it from falling down. “What are you doing here?” she murmurs, sparing a glance toward the digital clock on her bedside table. “It’s almost midnight.”
I creep closer, inching in as she watches me like a hawk, and even through the darkness, I can see her red-rimmed eyes, no doubt caused by my need to walk away from her tonight. I hate that my actions caused tears to fall from her beautiful eyes, but what fucking choice did I have? “Nice song selection,” I tell her.
She glances away, a smugness creeping into her eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I scoff before taking another step. “Leukemia, Zoey,” I state, letting her hear the torture in my voice, the torment I’ve felt since those words came out of my mother’s mouth.
Her gaze falls away, and a flicker of shame flashes in her eyes before she forces a small smile to spread across her lips as if somehow trying to make this easier for me. “You didn’t waste any time looking for answers, huh?” she whispers as sadness fills her tone.
“How the hell could you not tell me?”
“Why would I?” she questions, adjusting herself against her pillow to get comfortable. “You always wanted to protect me from the things that would scare me, and I wanted to protect you from the ugliness of this.” She pauses for a moment, her gaze shifting away from mine. “You were the only person who didn’t look at me like I was a ticking time bomb, and I needed that more than you could ever know. I needed my bestest friend, and maybe it was selfish of me not to tell you exactly what I was up against, but I needed the real, unapologetically amazing Noah that I loved with everything I had. If you had started looking at me the way that everyone else did . . . I wouldn’t have survived.”
Unease pounds at my chest, and I clench my jaw. The thought of little Zoey not surviving cripples me. “Don’t fucking say that.”
“Noah,” she whispers. “It’s true. You’re the reason I’m still here. You saved me. You got me through it. During those torturous chemotherapy sessions, I remember thinking all I had to do was get through that and when I was done, I would get to see you again. It’s your optimism and that stupid smile that forced me to fight.”