Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 57476 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 287(@200wpm)___ 230(@250wpm)___ 192(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57476 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 287(@200wpm)___ 230(@250wpm)___ 192(@300wpm)
But everything had changed. He’d changed. Hell, he couldn’t even think of her not in his life.
All he wanted was a certain dark-haired girl with vibrant blue eyes, who smelled incredible, made him feel alive, and ignited a passion inside of him that brought him to his knees.
He loved her, loved her more than anything else in the world, and that reality, that epiphany, slammed into him so hard he sucked in a breath.
“Are you okay?” she asked, and for a moment he was dazed that the shock of how much he cared for Mary was a living, breathing entity inside of him.
He cleared his throat and blinked back into focus, staring out at the football field. “I’m good.” He exhaled and felt a smile curve his lips. “I’m more than good and I can’t wait to see you tonight.”
And tonight he’d tell Mary. Tonight he’d cup her cheeks in his hands, stare into her ocean eyes, and tell her that there would never be another person in the world that meant more to him than she did.
23
The loose thread on Mary’s shirt was suddenly the most interesting thing in the room as she picked at it and tuned everything else out.
Although dinner tonight would have been stuffy and uncomfortable whether Alex was here with her or not, his presence would have at least eased some of the discomfort that she always felt when she was around her parents and Margo.
And she knew that because just thinking about him had her belly fluttering, her heart racing, and a stupid grin spreading across her face.
“Mary, did you hear what your sister asked you?”
Mary looked over at her mother. She shifted on the chair and cleared her throat. “Sorry, what did you say?” She looked at her sister. When she was around her family she was expected to be the proper daughter of the Trellis’s. And judging by her mother’s tone, it was clear she failed on that account tonight. And Mary… didn’t care.
“I asked what happened to your date? Wasn’t he supposed to join us tonight?” Margo looked at her fiancé and gave him a smile before patting his hand, which rested on her knee, almost patronizingly. As if telling him silently he was a good boy for doing what she said and being here tonight.
“He’ll be here,” Mary said and left it at that. Before Margo could spit back a smartassed comment, which Mary knew was poised on the tip of her tongue, the front doorbell chimed and her mother straightened.
“Oh, Mary, I forgot to tell you I ran into an old friend of yours a few weeks back.”
Mary felt her brows lower in confusion, and that spark of excitement thinking Alex was at the door left at her mother’s clear excitement. “An old friend?”
Her mother didn’t respond right away, just gave her a poised smile and gestured for Mary’s father to get the door. “I thought it would be nice to invite him along since it’s been ages.”
Him?
Before she could let that sick dread settle in, the sound of the front door opening and her father greeting the guest came through. And then she heard Lance’s voice.
Mary glanced down at her hands, which were now clasped tightly together in her lap. She heard her father and Lance enter the living room but refused to look at him, refused to acknowledge his presence.
“Mary,” her mother said her name in a condescending tone. “Aren’t you going to say hello to Lance?”
Gritting her teeth, she told herself it had been years since all that shit had gone down. She’d moved on, found something special and real with Alex, and Lance was nothing but a bad memory during a time in her life.
So fuck him. She wouldn’t allow him to make her uncomfortable. She wouldn’t allow any of them to.
Mary lifted her head and looked Lance right in the eyes. She expected to feel that tightening in her chest, the pain of betrayal she’d experienced whenever she thought about how he’d hurt her. But there was… nothing.
Lance Marten, with his perfectly styled blond hair, clear blue eyes, and his uptight sense of style, looked exactly how she remembered when she left him at that party two years ago. And she felt… nothing. Glorious nothing, and God was it incredible.
He smiled at her and said, “It is so good to see you, Mary.” He moved around the coffee table as if he were going to come over to her, to hug or touch or hell, just invade her personal space.
She found herself holding her hand out, palm facing him, and said in a voice that sounded stronger than she’d ever thought possible of in the past, “That’s close enough.” He stopped, his eyebrows rising in surprise, her mother gasping in outrage.
“Mary!” Her mother hissed, no doubt embarrassed by this slight affront to Lance.