Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 124574 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 623(@200wpm)___ 498(@250wpm)___ 415(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124574 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 623(@200wpm)___ 498(@250wpm)___ 415(@300wpm)
I paused in a moment of worry for my best friend until I convinced myself that she was okay. That she was running from her own demons, or maybe her own saints. Fair enough too. She was more comfortable with demons. They were better bedmates than saints. “But now I’ve lost it. With him. My balance is history and I can barely stand upright because he’s tilted everything on its axis and I can’t have that. Someone taking away my balance.”
It was as candid, as vulnerable as I’d been with my younger sister, or anyone, ever.
But I had to let this all out at some point.
Polly regarded me. “Sometimes you’ve got to lose your balance in order to find it again.”
I gaped at her. “Polly, that’s really… deep,” I said finally.
She grinned. “Thanks, it’s what my new yoga teacher told me when I was trying to perfect bird pose.” She waggled her eyebrows. “Which was before he asked me out.”
And there it was.
She glanced to her phone. “Shoot, and that’s the date that I’m already ten minutes late for.” She downed her mug, shoving it on the bedside table she’d already taken over before shooting up to quickly fluff her hair in front of my mirror and reapply her lipstick.
I watched her, shaking my head slightly.
The person who tried to keep up with Polly better be a very fast and long-distance runner. Or at least have big enough arms to hold her in one place. Or make her want to stay in one place.
“Okay. Well, got to go.” She leaned in to kiss my cheek. “And maybe have fun with not-so-balanced chaos. Some of the best positions come from there. Trust me, I’ve done the legwork.” She winked and ran out the door.
I watched her and thought maybe I’d had it all wrong after all. It wasn’t that Polly knew nothing about love.
She knew too much.
So, I decided to take my sister’s advice and leap.
Bungee jumping.
I zipped up my suitcase.
Smiling.
“So fucking late, so fucking late,” I chanted, hopping around on one heel while trying to shove the other on my foot. Once done, I scuttled over to my bag, rifling through it to try and find the lipstick I needed. When my initial search didn’t prove fruitful, I gave up and tipped the contents onto Keltan’s dining room table.
I unleashed the chaos of a woman’s handbag onto the orderly and clean surface.
Orderly made it that much easier to understand chaos—and find my lipstick. I snatched it up.
Arriving at his place the night before, I hadn’t known what to expect. We hadn’t spoken about the mundane things like how his business was going, or anything about his life here, in fact. I only knew what I heard. And in Hollywood, what you heard was either a complete exaggeration of the truth, a complete lie or anything in between.
His building told me it was going well.
It wasn’t overly swanky, but Cypress Park was becoming very trendy, hence a lot of new developments in the area, one being Keltan’s block of apartments. The exterior was sleek and not overly tall, which meant there was a small amount of units and a lot of space.
And once we’d gone inside I saw just how much.
It looked like he had the entire floor, and everything was open-plan. The polished wood floors started at a bedroom area in one corner, containing a huge bed with a gray slate bedspread and an oak headboard and side tables. Off the bedroom was a sofa, a large bookcase and weight equipment. No TV.
A big wooden table took up the middle of the wide-open room, in front of the front door and right by the floor-to-ceiling glass revealing the twinkling lights beyond. The kitchen was all stainless steel and new.
Everything was immaculately tidy. No clutter.
So Keltan.
Then again, he had enough clutter with me in his life.
I watched the journey of his ass in his jeans as he walked over to the bedroom area with me following.
He placed my bag just inside an open door to what looked like a walk-in closet. There was a closed door next to it that I guessed was the bathroom.
He turned to face me, his eyes impassive.
“Your place is nice,” I said, suddenly awkward at being in his space, so big yet it couldn’t seem to contain all of us. “Business must be going well.” I pointed out.
He nodded once. “Not bad.”
So Keltan. I would bet if he ever did get employed protecting the queen, the answer would be the same.
In a town where everyone was eager to tell you their bank balance and broadcast their success, Keltan was happy to just quietly succeed.
I glanced around again. “Was it originally like this?”
He stepped forward, easily taking me into his arms while continuing the conversation. “Nope, bought two, knocked down all the walls.”