Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 75289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Next up is the best coffee shop in town, and the typical first job for the teenagers in town. I worked there for three summers in a row before they realized I was stealing the cookies while on shift and fired me. But I didn’t need the job, I just enjoyed the extra shopping money at the end of the week to add something nice to my closet. Sometimes that something nice was for me, and sometimes . . . that something nice was for Nick.
I drive by the dollar store and Blushing’s version of Ikea, filled with cheap furniture. There’s a real estate office and then finally the grocery store. As I pull into the space outside the grocery store, I try to remember what stores are on the opposite side of the dog park. I know there was a diner and a bakery, but I’m not entirely sure what else this part of town can offer.
Putting Pop’s truck in park, I pull the key out of the ignition and make my way to the sidewalk, and just as I go to step toward the grocery store, my gaze flicks back to the real estate office next door. I should probably check if anyone is in today. After all, it’ll be good to get a professional’s opinion on the upgrades the property needs. Perhaps someone could come by and give me an idea about where the property would fit in the market.
Striding up to the door, a nervousness settles in the pit of my stomach that I don’t quite understand, but as I curl my fingers around the handles and find it locked, the nervousness fades away.
“Oh, thank fuck,” I mutter to myself, before shoving my hand into my pocket and pulling out my phone. I take a quick picture of the signage in the front window with the realtor’s number and their opening hours, and yet for some reason, I don’t think I’ll actually use it. Perhaps I’m moving too quickly. Maybe I’m not ready to sell the home I grew up in and part with all of those memories. But what other choice do I have? I might never be ready.
Not wanting to dwell on it, I make my way into the grocery store and grin, finding it just as it was six years ago, and for once, I’m glad that some things never change. As I make my way around the store, collecting things and dropping them into my cart, my phone rings, and I quickly bring it to my ear.
“Hey stranger,” I say, a smile playing on my lips.
“You’re still alive?” Rena asks. “I was worried when I didn’t hear from you last night.”
“I’m sorry. Yesterday was exhausting. I went to bed holding my phone with the intention of calling, but I think I passed out before I could even find your number.”
“That’s what I thought.” There’s a slight pause, and I can almost hear her convincing herself not to ask the one question that’s probably been driving her insane, but I’m not surprised when her self-control falters. “Have you seen him yet? Is he just as delicious as he is in all the pictures? Ah, shit. I bet he’s even hotter now that he’s gone from the boyish early twenties into a real man.”
I groan, rolling my eyes. “No. I haven’t seen him, and I’m hoping to keep it that way,” I say, reaching for a fresh carton of milk before deciding better on it and grabbing another. After all, if I’m going to spend the next few weeks of my life bringing Nana’s home into the twenty-first century, I’m going to need all the coffee my body can handle. “Though my driveway just happened to be freshly shoveled when I got up this morning, and while my new bestie who drove me home from the airport was possibly the coolest guy I’ve ever met, I doubt I left enough of an impression to warrant him plowing my driveway in the middle of the night.”
“New bestie?” Rena gasps. “Do I need to feel threatened or excited about the possibility of this guy plowing you?”
“Uggghhhh. Stop. It’s not like that. The only thing Oxley is plowing is his boyfriend, and as for the bestie status, I don’t know,” I tease. “He’s a strong contender. We’re already sharing all of our secrets, and tomorrow night, he’s braiding my hair.”
“You’re the worst,” she mutters before her tone hitches up. “Oh, shit, Airy-Blairy, I have to go. The new yoga instructor just arrived and he’s fucking ripped.”
“Oh God. Try not to scare this one away.”
Rena laughs. “Who knows? Maybe by the end of the session, I’ll be the one giving him a workout.”
“I’m hanging up,” I tell her, rolling my eyes.
The last thing I hear before the line goes dead is Rena’s howling laughter, and all too soon, I come back to reality, walking around Blushing’s only grocery store. I finish loading up my cart, getting enough things to keep me going for at least a week or two, and as I step up to the register and start unloading my groceries onto the conveyor belt, I find a familiar face, only she finds mine first.