Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 43837 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 219(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43837 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 219(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
Her cheeks go pink.
“Well, that was it. I have to get to the diner for my shift now.”
I can hear the urging whispers at my back, and I give them the finger behind me.
“Do you mind if I drive you there?” I ask her. “That way, I know that you’re safe.”
Kathleen nods, looking happily surprised. “I would really like that, thank you.”
“Alright, let me just go put these brownies on the counter.” I catch my sisters and Allison waiting with mischievous smiles and change my mind. “Never mind, I’ll just take them with me so we can get you there on time. Are you ready to go?”
“Yeah, I’m ready,” Kathleen tells me, pulling her cardigan tighter around her.
There are catcalls as we leave the apartment, and I sigh, hoping Kathleen hasn’t heard them. She reaches her hand out and squeezes my fingers, though, and when she looks up at me, her cheeks are pink. I can’t help but give her a smile.
The bright leaves on the trees that line the streets shake in the crisp autumn wind. Kathleen appears doll-like in the soft, orange glow just before dawn.
Her pale skin and large eyes are luminous, gleaming in her delicate features.
She’s curvy but frail-looking, though she tries to hide it behind her sharp tongue. An irrational fear washes over me that anyone could snatch her away at any time.
I hold her hand. I don’t let go, even once we’re inside of my car’s warm interior.
“Do your sisters live with you? Or that girl? Is she your girlfriend or something?”
I’m stupidly pleased to hear that sour note of jealousy in her tone.
Of course, she would think that Allison was my girlfriend. Though the thought never crossed my mind, even when I was younger, and she confessed her crush on me.
“Allison is my sister’s best friend,” I tell her, squeezing her fingers gently where our entangled hands rest on the console. It feels so natural. “She’s not really even my type.”
“What is your type then?” Kathleen blurts out and then seems to regret it. “Uh, you don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to. I don’t know why I asked.”
“Well,” I say, giving her a wink. “I think I have a soft spot for waitresses.”
“Even if they work at strip clubs and talk out of their ass?” Kathleen mutters, but when I glance over at her, she isn’t looking at me as the city streaks by the car.
I squeeze her fingers, making her look over at me. “Don’t worry about that.”
At the diner, purple and orange light streaks across the sky behind the building, silhouetting it against the morning as it paints the clouds in a symphony of color.
Kathleen sighs, tipping her head back tiredly against the seat of the car.
“Do you ever wish you could be someone else—anyone else?”
Her voice is so quiet that I almost don’t hear her. She’s staring at the sky in the distance.
“Who do you want to be?” I ask, turning toward her in the driver’s seat.
I want to know what happens in this woman’s mind that makes her think that just being herself isn’t good enough. She shines like a bright star in the night.
“I just wish life wasn’t so hard,” Kathleen’s voice breaks, and she looks away, staring out of the window into the rising morning’s cold, autumn light.
“When do you need to be in there?” I ask her, keeping my voice quiet. I don’t want to break the soft stillness of the moment. I want to keep her with me in the backseat, but I know we can’t. “Can you sit with me for a minute?”
Kathleen looks over at me under her thick, dark lashes. When she nods, I wrap my hand around hers.
I want to rip apart anyone who would do her harm. I want to tuck her into my chest and keep her there, warm and utterly safe at my side.
“I didn’t mean to be so melodramatic,” Kathleen mutters, shaking her head.
“I don’t think you are,” I assure her. Of course, a pragmatic woman like Kathleen would think that any admission of weakness is just a symptom of melodramatics. “Tell me about your mom, Kat. How did things get to be where they are today?”
To my surprise, she cups a hand over her mouth and squeezes her eyes shut. A sudden panic floods me, and I wonder what I’ve said to make her look so down.
“It’s just…,” Kathleen whispers as she squeezes my hand. “No one but Chrissy has cared enough to ask me for so long. I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m upset.”
When I lean over the console to her, the hair that I twine gently through my fingers is soft and smooth like silk, slipping over the rough calluses on my skin.
“You’re a woman that’s been strong for too long.”