Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 90753 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90753 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Unfortunately, it’ll have to do.
Mouse and I dash for the front door. He diverts his path to splash in every puddle he can find, but I beeline right for the entrance. Even still, it’s no use. When I pull the door open and walk inside, I’m soaked from head to toe. My once-perfect curls hang sad and limp. My jeans stick to my thighs, and my shoes squeak with every step.
Adam is already inside the gym with most of the other attendees. Everyone’s unpeeling rain jackets and drying off as best they can. Mouse shakes and throws water clear across the room.
“Here, this’ll help a little,” Adam says, handing me a small gym towel he must have found in one of the supply closets. I use it to pat myself down and I go from sopping to just mostly sopping. Then Adam takes the towel back from me and uses it for Mouse.
“Thanks. I didn’t think to pack my rain gear.”
He smiles and glances up. We lock gazes, and those pale green eyes make my stomach flip. I haven’t seen him in two days. It’s nothing—hardly a blip—and yet the moment feels charged. I blink and look away first.
“I wasn’t sure you’d come,” he admits, standing.
If he can be honest, I can too.
“I almost didn’t.”
He sighs. “Yeah, I guess the last two days have been strange to say the least.”
“Oh?” I sound casual, aloof.
“Adam,” one of the other attendees calls. “Will we be starting on time or are we going to wait for the last few stragglers?”
Of course, puppy training class—the reason we’re both here, the reason a dozen people are staring at us, wondering why Adam hasn’t started teaching yet.
He looks back at me with furrowed brows, torn. “You’ll stay after class, won’t you?”
I nod. Of course I’ll stay.
Unfortunately, I won’t be able to keep that promise.
The first half of class proceeds as normal. Adam increases the difficulty of the commands and we work with our dogs—training, clicking, and treating each time they perform well. Mouse is getting the hang of sit, down, stay, and I’m mastering avoid, smile, nod whenever Adam comes around to check on me. I can tell he wants to pull me aside and chat, but there’s no reason to do it in the middle of class. If he’s going to tell me he and Olivia are back together, or that she’s staying in Texas, or that he’s going to propose to her again with an even bigger and better diamond, I want it to be in private, preferably in a room shrouded in shadows so he can’t see me crumble before his very eyes.
“He’s doing really well,” Adam says, commending Mouse after a particularly long stretch of staying.
I bend down and pat Mouse’s head when the gymnasium doors fling open and draw the attention of everyone in the room. A beautiful blonde steps in wearing a chic white blouse and black slacks. Both are impeccably fitted, probably tailored just for her bony little body. Whatever rain swept in while I was driving must have ended before she stepped outside because every single strand of short blonde hair is styled and in place. Her lips are covered in a bright shade of red and her heels look to be more expensive than my sofa. Around her wrist is a delicate brown leather leash attached to a medium-sized golden retriever. In short, she is the most put-together person I’ve ever seen in real life.
Olivia.
Of course she’s Olivia, and the adorable well-behaved dog at her feet is Molly.
Adam’s old family—Adam’s beautiful, old family.
She beelines straight for us and my brain shouts at me to do something. Run. Flee while you can! I scan both exits, wondering if I can reach them before she reaches us, but it’s too late. I catch a whiff of a light rose-scented perfume before I’ve even taken one step.
“Sorry I’m late. That rain wouldn’t let up.”
“What are you doing here?” he asks. “Did my mom tell you I’d be here?”
I have my eyes trained on the ground, too petrified to glance up and take in her glory from this close up. I bet she looks like a runway model, slicing her way down the catwalk.
“She mentioned it this morning, so I thought I’d bring Molly by for a refresher.”
She sounds so confident with him, and I suppose she would. How many dinners have they shared? Vacations? Lazy Sunday mornings?
“Oh! Who is this?” someone asks behind me.
The other attendees are starting to gather around, curious about the goddess who just interrupted our class.
Olivia laughs and it sounds like a hundred baby angels. “Oh, I’m Olivia, Adam’s fiancée.”
“Ex!”
All eyes whip to me and I finally, finally glance up to Olivia. She’s glaring at me with narrowed eyes, and I realize I’ve spoken out of turn. They were having a private conversation, and I was supposed to be nonexistent, a speck of dust.