Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 89183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89183 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Malcolm came up with a bottle of clear liquid and two glasses. “This is a botanical gin. A friend of mine in the Surrey Hills distills it.” He poured them each a glass, a rather hefty one by her measure. He threw his head back and downed his gin in one swallow, then refilled his glass. “When that girl I was dating—Lord, I can’t even remember her name.”
“Brianna Sterling,” Josie said. He might have forgotten Brianna, but Josie never would. Not the girl who’d christened her Worm.
“Right. When Brianna dared me to kiss you… I knew it was wrong. Not because there was anything wrong at all with kissing you,” he clarified, “but because we didn’t know each other. And she and I were dating. Teenagers daring each other to do things is always stupid. I knew it. I could hear my mother’s voice in my head, telling me that I was raised better than that. That I was raised better than my behavior had indicated that whole year. But I didn’t say no. Instead, I let my whole twisted-up teenage self walk up to you outside and pull you into my arms without even asking if it was okay to kiss you.”
He let out a harsh breath. “I’m sorry, Josie. Truly sorry. Especially about what I said after, when she came out, when she pretended that she had caught us kissing, when she acted like she hadn’t orchestrated the whole thing, and when I said those horrible words.” He didn’t have to say them now for her to hear them.
I was just screwing around with her, Brie. Do you think I would actually want to make out with some random sophomore? You know I have higher standards than that.
“I won’t ask you to forgive me. I don’t think I deserve it. But I can say I’m sorry anyway.”
Jose was on the verge of tears. It was so emotional to have the boy who had done that to her sitting in front of her now, bringing it all up again. But she didn’t need to cry this time. Didn’t need to go dashing off in a flood of tears the way she had before. She was a grown woman, and she had recovered from that horrible night. Still, his words helped ease the old scar.
“Worse things have happened to people,” she said softly.
“I know, but you still didn’t deserve to be treated that way.” He took another drink from his glass. “The next morning when I woke up, I knew that I was finally done with it all. Done with the partying. Done with the drinking. Done with acting like a dick. I want you to know I’ve never done anything like that again, never said anything like that to anyone or treated anybody’s feelings as callously as I did yours. And though I’m sure some of my exes might disagree,” he added with a wry smile, “I never intend to hurt anybody.”
She let out a massive sigh. “Thanks for letting me know. It does help a little to know what you were going through and what made you act that way.” She shook her head, taking a sip of gin, which burned all the way down. “I’m not going to lie. I did feel pretty bad for a while after that. But I got over it a long time ago.” She thought about it and realized that even then, books had helped her. “I felt the falseness in your words somehow. And it made no sense for you to act that way. The story didn’t make sense, so when I stopped feeling humiliated, I was able to realize that what you did could have been done to anyone.” She made a face. “But Brianna really did have it in for me.”
“If you ask me,” Malcolm said, “she was jealous of you.”
Shock gently punched her in the stomach. “Jealous? Brianna? Of me?”
“Sure. You were so smart. Focused. Maybe it wasn’t cool to love books, but you didn’t need other people’s adoration the way she did. I think that’s why she targeted you.”
She very much liked his interpretation of what had happened. She grinned at him suddenly. “You know what my company’s called?”
He shook his head.
“The Bookworm. I have Brianna to thank for that.”
He chuckled. “I lost touch with that crowd years ago, but I’ll wager you’ve made more of your life than any of the cool kids.” He paused and then said, “I noticed, you know. You always seemed so happy, and the way you’d walk around with a book all the time—I found it charming. So I’m even more sorry I did that awful thing.”
“Truthfully, it doesn’t matter. And I think now that we’ve cleared the air, why don’t we both agree to move on? We’re not kids anymore. And it’s water under the bridge.” Which seemed like the perfect phrase, given that they were floating on a river with one of London’s bridges visible from where they sat.