Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 98789 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98789 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
“If I’m being honest, that might have been an excuse to spend time in the dark with you.”
“If I’m being honest, you didn’t need an excuse.” Her smile tightened the vise around my heart, and I tugged one of her curls. “Am I finally forgiven for kicking you out of my bed?”
“Yes.”
“Thank God.” More quietly, I said, “I had such a good time with you. The time of my life.”
She laughed a little, even though her eyes were sad. “Our song.”
“Always.” I smiled, rubbing her bottom lip with my thumb. “Are we good, Sugar?”
She swallowed before answering. “We’re good.”
“I’ll call you when I get home.” I rose to my feet.
“Dash?”
At her bedroom doorway, I turned around. “Yes?”
“Will you do something for me?”
“Anything.”
She smiled, but her breath hitched, and she wiped her eyes. “Don’t call me right away, okay? I just need—a little—time.” She struggled to get the words out. “To get past this.”
That vise cinched hard. “I understand.”
“Thank you.” She clutched the blankets to her bare skin, and it took every ounce of strength I had not to rush back into the room and take her in my arms.
Fifteen seconds later, I was walking down her driveway toward my car, wondering how long this unbearable tightness in my chest was going to last.
I was finding it hard to breathe.
TWENTY-TWO
dash
When I landed in L.A., I discovered I had a voicemail from Beatrix.
“Hey, Dash. Great news! I spoke with Katherine Carroll’s assistant, and she said this isn’t an audition—you already have the part!” She laughed gleefully. “She said all you have to do is show up at the house at four. I already texted you the address, so good luck, and let me know how it goes. Bye!”
Still sitting in my seat in first class, I stared out the window slack-jawed as we taxied to the gate.
What the fuck? Had I heard that right? I already had the part without even having to audition? It seemed too good to be true—could the universe be that impressed with my newfound willingness to be more vulnerable? I was almost afraid to listen to it a second time.
But I did, and the message was the same. I had the part.
My first instinct was to call Ari, and I nearly tapped her name in my phone before I remembered I’d promised not to contact her for a little while. Frowning at my phone, I realized there was no one else I really wanted to talk to at that moment, no one else who’d really understand how fucking monumental this was.
On the drive home from the airport, I called Izzie, who didn’t answer, and then tried Beatrix.
“Hello?”
“Hey, this is Dashiel Buckley.”
“Dash! Did you get my message?”
“I did, but I just want to make sure I understand. I already have the part?”
“That’s what she said. Amazing, right?”
“Yeah, but . . . it’s just so crazy. I’ve never even met Katherine Carroll.”
“She must have done her research on you after Izzie reached out. Something she saw impressed her!”
“I guess.” What the hell could she have seen that was so impressive? Malibu Splash? That guest arc on Law & Order? The ad campaign for Hot Bod Sunscreen?
“Face it, Dash. You’ve got charisma. She saw through the character of Bulge to your raw talent.”
I scrubbed a hand over my jaw. Checked my reflection in the rearview. “Maybe.”
“Wait until we tell Izzie,” she bubbled. “She’s gonna flip.”
“Is she still off the grid?”
“She must be. I haven’t heard from her in a day or so. Listen, you know what they say—don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, right? The assistant definitely said you had the part in question, and all you had to do was show up Tuesday at four.”
“I can handle that,” I said, my confidence growing.
“Let me know how it goes, okay? I’d say good luck, but you don’t even need it!”
“Thanks, anyway. I’ll be in touch.” Ending the call, I debated breaking my promise to Ari. Then I thought about those tears in her eyes and the catch in her voice when she asked me to give her time.
I couldn’t be so selfish.
That evening, I had dinner delivered and ate it alone in front of the television. It wasn’t nearly as good as anything Ari made, and I missed her company, her laugh, even her sappy taste in movies. In fact, as I flipped through channels, I came across a romantic comedy I’d never seen before that looked right up her alley. I watched for a few minutes and reached for my phone.
Then I flopped back, frustrated and scowling. How long was this going to go on?
I lasted a few more minutes and gave in. If she wanted to ignore me, she could, but on the off chance she was willing to talk, I needed to check in with her.