Total pages in book: 162
Estimated words: 158848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 158848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 794(@200wpm)___ 635(@250wpm)___ 529(@300wpm)
Oh, wow. Why’d he have to say something so sweet now when we have to say goodbye in a few minutes. And I haven’t even apologized for how mean I’ve been the last few times we saw each other.
“Okay.” I fight the urge to slip my hand into his as we continue walking.
All too soon, the little building comes into view. A steady stream of people are pushing their way through the red front doors. “This is it,” I say.
“It looks like a church.”
I chuckle and point to the little wooden plaque above the doors. Church Hall.
“Well, look at that.” He grins and hands over my backpack. “Hope you have a good rest of your day.”
“Thanks.”
Awkwardness slides over us for a second.
Griff shoves his hands in his pockets and lifts his brow.
“Thanks for, uh, bringing my stuff. And breakfast.”
“Anytime.”
I’m almost in the front door when something compels me to turn around. Griff’s still standing on the sidewalk, hands in his pockets, eyes watching me. He’s as tall and immovable as a statue while students move around him. I push through the clump of guys behind me and hurry down the stairs back to Griff.
Concern creases his forehead. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I grip his biceps and lean up on my tiptoes. He bends down, tilting his head as if he thinks I’m about to tell him a secret. But I press my lips to his cheek instead. “Drive back safe.”
I kiss his cheek again and hurry away. At the top of the stairs I turn again and he’s watching me with a smile this time. He lifts his hand and waves.
I make it upstairs and inside the classroom right as the bell rings. Mr. Katz is already standing by the door waiting to throw the lock.
Phew. Just in time.
I grab a seat in the front row, not caring if that makes me look nerdy. My gaze strays to the window again and again even though it doesn’t face the parking lot.
The weekend seems so far away. Paying attention in class has never been so difficult.
Griff
I savor Molly’s sweet, brief kiss all the way home. Seeing her, walking around campus with her, talking to her, all of it was so much better than following her around like a damn stalker. She seems happy at school. Comfortable. Even if she doesn’t love all the big changes, she’s doing well. That’s what I want for her.
The drive isn’t bad, either. When I’m feeling one hundred percent back to normal, it’ll be nothing to run out to visit and take her out whenever she wants.
Remy’s still at the house when I pull in the driveway. I pull my car up and around his Bronco, so I’m not blocking him.
In the kitchen, he’s busy frying eggs and the sharp scent of burned toast stings my nose.
“Back already?” he asks, throwing a glance at me over his shoulder.
“How many eggs are you making? It reeks in here.”
“Well, now you’re not getting any.” He slides two eggs onto a plate, then flicks his spatula under another egg and flips it. “How’d it go?”
“Fine.” I shrug off my sweatshirt and drape it over a hook on the basement door.
“Here.” He holds out a plate of eggs and buttered toast.
My stomach rumbles. The bits of muffin and few sips of coffee I had on campus weren’t enough. “This for me?”
“Yeah, I assume you didn’t eat an actual breakfast out there,” he says.
Why does he know me so well? Chuckling, I grab the plate and head into the dining room. “Got that right.”
I return to the kitchen for orange juice, coffee, and utensils. Remy follows me into the dining room, setting his own plate across from mine.
My phone buzzes and I pull it out of my pocket. Please be a date for the reunion show. I want to get that out of my way and move on with my damn life. Worrying that someone at the coffee shop might have taken my picture intruded on my brief time with Molly and I didn’t like it.
I flick the screen on to check the text.
Molly: I am glad you’re home.
Relief, greater than anything I felt after winning my fights, sweeps over me.
She finally unblocked my number.
Me: Thank you.
No, that’s stupid. I hit delete, then type it out again. I am thankful she’s willing to talk to me. Might as well just be honest. I hit send and stare at the screen.
No reply.
That’s okay. It’s a start.
But then it buzzes again. A picture pops up. Molly, nose-to-nose with her stuffed bunny.
Molly: I named her Carnival, BTW.
My heart hammers from a simple selfie from my girl.
Me: Perfect name.
“What are you grinning about?” Remy asks.
I click on the picture and set it as my screen background. “Nothing.” I set my phone on the table.
He frowns. It’s not like he has a no phones at the table policy. His own’s sitting right next to his plate. “Who are you texting?” he asks.