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)
Eyeing the length of the football field, I pull my legs up to my chin. “I wonder if this would be Mason’s favorite place too, if I asked him.” I turn to Noah, my neck stretching to follow as he jumps to his feet.
He holds a hand out, so with a critical squint, I allow him to pull me to my feet.
Noah chuckles, and then without hesitation, he tugs me into him. One hand plants on my hip, the other keeping hold of my right. Slowly, Noah begins to rock us, and only when silence falls over him and I does the soft melody reach my ears.
Peeking behind me, I spot his phone on the turf, and look back to him.
“You owed me a dance,” he whispers, the heat of his breath sending an electric current down my spine.
My pulse plays leapfrog and I try for an easy grin. “Do I now?”
Noah only nods, and we continue to move.
It’s a strange kind of torture, the soft purity being in his arms offers, and the devastating story the words the song playing around us gently tells.
It’s bone-cracking torture, but Rascal Flatts will do that to you.
The song sings about love and good graces. Of wishing nothing but the best for someone. But most of all, it sings of selflessness, of acceptance that only comes with loss, or the possibility of goodbye, and Noah’s lips move to the words of the song as if silently singing them.
It’s as if Noah knows what music does to me and is speaking to me through the lyrics.
He wants me to be happy above all else, and I wish I understood exactly why.
You must know why, Ari. Remember.
I blink, swallow, and then the song changes, and it only gets worse.
Because this time, Noah’s grip isn’t simply him holding me, it’s him needing me.
I can feel it, deep in my soul. I feel him.
The defeat, the loss the song tells a tale of, it bleeds from him, and I ache to take it away.
It sings of missed chances and future dreams. This is a song about the agony that comes from the ‘what if’ life leaves us with. That so close moment, when everything seems possible, your happiness dangling within reach, all to be torn to bits and burned.
When there’s nothing you can do but sit back and watch the ashes disappear into the wind.
A sense of helplessness washes over me, and it’s as if a weight dropped along my shoulder when Noah’s forehead falls to mine.
My ribs ache, growing worse as I try for a deep breath, and I realize why when his shuddered one fans across me.
Noah is breaking before me. It’s obvious in the creases deepening along his brow. In the way his eyes squeeze tight, and his moments begin to slow. He’s barely keeping it together.
My intuition is proven true when his next breath is an apology as he excuses himself.
I stand there, all alone in the middle of the end zone, wondering why with each step away he takes, my body grows heavier.
Chapter 49
Arianna
* * *
My knee bounces restlessly as we pull into the parking lot in front of my dorm room.
It’s odd, to recognize everything so fully, but not know if it’s from the visit we took here last year or the semester I called this place my home.
Since all five of us needed to come and go through our things, we decided to ride up as together in Mason’s Tahoe. The boys carry my and Cam’s suitcases, chatting about the mess they left their rooms in as we make our way inside and onto the elevator.
Cameron presses the number three, and I log that into my memory. The boys speak, and I smile in response, but I have no idea what they said. My heart is pounding in my ears, leaving no room for anything else.
Maybe I shouldn’t be, but I’m nervous.
What if I hate it?
Does that mean I’m different? That I changed and I don’t even know it?
What if I walk in and all my memories come flooding back, overwhelming me?
What if I walk in and they don’t?
Before I realize it, I’m standing in front of a cheap wooden door, the number 311 hanging beside it. Pulling the keys from my pocket, I slide it in the lock and turn.
The door swings open and I hold my breath.
It’s with shaky steps that I ease inside, and the moment I cross the threshold, the weight on my shoulders lessens.
A smile breaks over my face as I look to the candles on the countertops, a translucent bowl half full of wine corks and bottle caps between them.
I glance at Cam.
She picks it up, shaking it a little. “This is everything we consumed as besties since move-in day. Group caps are unworthy.”
“That sounds solid.” I run my fingertips over the counter, slipping into the living room.