Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 173796 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 869(@200wpm)___ 695(@250wpm)___ 579(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 173796 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 869(@200wpm)___ 695(@250wpm)___ 579(@300wpm)
He steps beside me. “What kind of girl would invite ‘some guy from the beach she sat and talked to for a minute’ to sleep down the hall from her for two weeks?”
My lungs fill, and I turn to him.
“The kind that remembers a topic from her freshman orientation.”
His brows snap together. “That… that was after she left for the summer. Weeks after.”
A small smile pulls at my lips, and I nod. “I know.”
With that, I move toward my truck, leaving Mason to explain why I didn’t have to run home to grab some things before we make the short trip.
I already packed.
Chapter 43
Noah
* * *
Two days turn into four, and four turn into a week and still, Ari’s memory hasn’t come back. That’s twenty-two days in total, and with each passing hour, my days grow a little darker.
The subconscious memory about orientation is the last and only comment I’ve caught that holds any kind of proof her memories are still in there somewhere. As far as I’m know, it’s the only time she’s referenced before, not that she realized it. Again, as far as I’m aware.
A cold bottle of beer slips into my view, and I look up to find Mr. Johnson.
Not wanting to be rude, I plan to take it, but I hesitate a moment too long and a low chuckle leaves him.
“Yeah, I know that face.” He lowers into the seat beside me, takes a slow swig and sets the second bottle between his legs. “That’s the face of a man who found himself on a first name basis with the guy at the liquor store.”
My mouth curves slightly and I look to the wooden deck beneath my feet. “His name was Darrel, and he’s got a thing for cherry soda.”
Mr. Johnson flashes a small grin, but it doesn’t meet his eyes. His features smooth and he nods. “You think you can be straight with me?” he wonders.
“I have no reason not to be, sir.”
He waves me off. “I like that answer, but no sir. No Mr. Johnson. Just Evan.” He lowers his chin and I nod.
“I won’t lie to you, Evan.” I look him in the eye. “I might choose not to answer based on the question, but only out of good intention. Nothing more.”
“What kind of question would you choose not to answer?”
I open my mouth, but he laughs it off.
“I just want to know how you’re doin’, son, how you’re really doing.”
“I’m not really sure,” I answer honestly. “All things considered, I’m fine, but all things considered and uh…”
“And you’re a fucking mess?”
My eyes snap his way and he grins, drawing a chuckle from me.
“Yes, sir.” He lifts a brow and I raise my palms. “Sorry, curse of an athlete. It you weren’t a professor of mine, you were sir or coach. It’s not an easy one to break.”
“It’s a good problem to have.” He nods. “About that whole athlete thing.”
I look away. “This might lead to one of those ‘choose not to answer’ questions.”
“Because you don’t want me to tell you not to walk away from your dreams.”
“If that’s what you said to me right now, sir, I’d thank you for understanding why I’m here and not anywhere else.”
His jaw clenches, and he looks away with a slow nod, attempting to shield the moisture building in his eyes. “Evan, son. Not sir.” He takes a long drink from his beer, and when he looks to me, he nods again. “How you doing? Truly, Noah. I know your mama is still healing, you’ve got your last semester coming up, and football is up in the air. And with everything happening with Ari, it’s worries me for you. It’s a lot for anyone to handle, but where my daughter is concerned, I imagine your position is the worst to be stuck in.”
“I don’t feel stuck, sir, or Evan. A bit helpless, a little overwhelmed, yeah, but not stuck.”
“I know it’s hard, and I don’t know that I necessarily agree with her choice to keep all our mouths closed like this, but I appreciate you going along with what she’s asked.” He scoffs, shaking his head. “Pretty sure I’d have locked my wife in a room with me and broke down every detail that first night.”
My laugh is low. “Yeah.”
I’d love nothing more than to do exactly that. It’s on my mind all the time, how I would start and what exactly I would say. I’ve had the imaginary conversation with her a hundred times now, but at the end of each one, tears brim in her eyes, confusion swimming within them as she stares at the man telling her she loves him while internally swearing she loves another.
I won’t hurt her just to help myself.
I look to Mr. Johnson. “Biting my tongue has never been too hard for me, it’s just another thing that comes with being an athlete.”