Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 114368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Therefore, I closed my eyes and went back to sleep, hoping she’d slowly inch closer.
CHAPTER 15
Starlet
I woke up to find my head resting against Milo’s chest. Pushing myself up, I almost yelled at him for breaking through the pillow border, but then I noticed his position. He was right where he was supposed to be. I had shifted toward him.
I lowered myself back and let my hands lay against his chest as I listened to his heartbeat. The warmth of his hold sent comforting chills down my spine. I stayed against him longer than I should’ve, but I couldn’t pull myself away. I breathed in his oak trees and lemonade scent, wishing I could’ve remained there all day.
I stayed for five more minutes.
Then ten.
Maybe twenty.
I wished it didn’t feel so right having him beneath me. His arm was slightly wrapped around me, and I fell against him as if I were always meant to be there.
Move, Starlet.
I gently sighed before slowly inching myself back to my side of the bed. I placed the pillow border back in place. I tried to fall back asleep, but I missed his touch too much. I’d keep that fact to myself, though.
“Heated gloves and heated socks?” Milo asked me as I handed him a backpack filled with essentials. I hadn’t been hiking in the winter in a long time, so perhaps I’d gone over and above with precautions, but I always said better safe than sorry.
“You never know what could happen out there,” I warned, zipping up my coat as we parked the car in a secluded area to head out for the hike. A few hikers were already on the trail toward the ice caves, and I was packed with a heavy level of anxiety intermixed with excitement. It was the first hike I’d taken since Mom passed away. A part of me thought I wouldn’t find myself on a trail again if I were honest. I wasn’t used to not having her by my side.
“And granola bars?” he mentioned.
“My mom always packed granola bars. If you unzip that top zipper on the backpack, you’ll find Fruit Roll-Ups and trail mix in little baggies.”
He did as I said and raised an eyebrow, amused. “I’m impressed, Teach.”
I smiled. “What can I say? I’m pretty impressive.”
“Yes, you are.”
I felt my cheeks flush from his commentary. I didn’t think he meant it in a flirtatious way, but that man was a master at making my stomach swirl with butterflies without even trying. Sometimes he’d just be standing still, and my body would react to his mere existence.
I hated how my mind couldn’t control my body. If it could, all the attraction I felt toward Milo would’ve dissipated.
We gathered our gear and camera equipment and set off walking toward the trail. Before we set foot on it, Milo stopped me by placing a hand on my shoulder. “Star, wait.”
“What?”
“Are you okay?”
I arched my eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“I know you haven’t been hiking since your mom, and I just wanted to check in to make sure you’re really okay to do this.”
There he was.
Sweet Milo.
The gentle one who didn’t come out to play that often.
My stupid heart and how it chose to beat for him.
“I’m okay,” I told him with a smile. He tilted his head, studying me as if he were trying to figure out if I was being honest with him or not. “I’m okay,” I repeated.
He nodded. “If there’s any moment that you’re not, let me know, all right?”
“Will do.”
We started the hike, and the cold breeze of winter brushed against my slightly exposed face. It was, indeed, one of the coldest winters I’d experienced in some time. Yet the world around us was beautiful. Snow covered the grass and the bare branches of the trees. The sun rays cut through the trees, adding just a touch of warmth every now and again. When we approached a small lake, we stopped to have Milo take a few photographs. I took in a few deep inhales as I stared at the iced-over water. Something was so beautiful about the idea that something so frozen in time would soon flow freely once spring touched it.
I studied Milo as he took his photographs. I could tell by how he set up his camera and how he posed the backgrounds that he wasn’t simply a good photographer. He was great. I’d learned that about him over the past few weeks—Milo Corti was great.
He was pretty much good at everything when he put in the effort. I knew the main issue for his struggles had everything to do with grief, which was understandable. Grief had that effect on individuals. It could make extraordinary people seem nothing more than uninspired, weak, and frozen over in sadness.
The most stunning thing to me, though, was the aftermath of grief when the frozen hearts began to thaw.