Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 84952 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84952 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
I hate her. I don’t know her, but my loathing for the woman runs deep. How could she hurt someone like that, let alone a man so thoughtful and so kind? Her own son?
“How did he turn out so strong?” I ask the kitchen.
I can’t fathom having to deal with the things he had to deal with at this age, let alone as a child. To actually be alone in the world. Abandoned. Used.
My heart breaks for him and the sadness that ran so deep in his eyes. The pain was bottomless as he tried to avoid my gaze so I didn’t see.
I make a cup of coffee. The ritual of it helps settle the misalignment of the morning. I switch over to good thoughts of Hollis because thinking of him with tears in his eyes makes me want to cry.
I wish he was here.
“He probably had something to do today,” I say, working through my thoughts. “Or maybe he just didn’t feel right being here this morning.”
That’s a real thing. I’ve felt that before when I had a quick hookup and wake up in his house. The need to leave is real.
I carry my cup through the house and realize that I’m not freaking out. Usually, when something goes awry with a guy or even appears to be going sideways, panic sets in. But I’m not now, and I’m not sure why.
Sitting on the couch, I tuck my legs under me. It’s quite a revelation to feel this … free. Yet, at the same time, I’ve been spending time with Hollis. Sure, we’re just friends, and this is nothing serious, but is spending time with a man supposed to be this easy?
It is when it’s just a means to an end.
And the end is here.
I rest my cup on my knee as another realization hits me: our pact is over.
I helped him through dinner, and he made a show for my mom—an amazing one at that.
“Why can’t real relationships be this easy?” I wonder aloud.
They never are. They’re always filled with stress and compromise to the point when no one gets anything remotely like what they wanted in the first place. Once you attach yourself to someone else, their burdens somehow become yours.
“That’s why they can’t be easy. They’re real-world. This thing with Hollis was just pretend.” I smile. “It was fun.”
I lean against the cushions and sigh a slow, steady breath. I’ve been looking forward to seeing him. The last couple of days came out of nowhere but have made me laugh and smile more than I have in a long damn time.
The bottom of my cup warms my leg a little too much, so I pick it up, taking a long sip and feeling the warmth fill my stomach.
“I need to find a guy like Hollis,” I say. “Which is weird because he’s totally my type but totally … not.”
He’s totally my type. From the broad shoulders to the way he makes my name sound seductive, Hollis Hudson is the kind of guy I hope to find one day. It’s just perplexing that he also has all the qualities of the group of men who never fail to let me down.
I know, down deep, that you can’t lump people together like that. I told Hollis that. But he’s so different from the men I usually date that it’s hard to fathom what it is about him that makes me feel totally different when we’re together.
Because there is something about him that wasn’t my type in the most wonderful way. Something that makes me feel confident and fun. Beautiful. I don’t feel crazy for wanting to talk or to have goals of my own.
Just as long as I don’t ask questions.
My amusement fades as I realize why he doesn’t like to be prompted. He has many ghosts that I think he’s ashamed of.
My bracelets dangle on my wrist. I set my cup down. Working carefully with the delicate clasp, I unfasten Siggy’s gift. It was so thoughtful, and it’s something I’d pick out for myself, but the one still wrapped around my arm is more special.
I hold it in the air and watch the little succulent sparkle in the light.
You said you liked rose gold jewelry. And you’re going to school for something in landscape.
He listens. He listens to me.
Is that what’s different?
“You’re something else, Hollis,” I say to an empty room.
I pick up my cup, and I take another drink.
Thank God he’s leaving, or else I might be in some trouble.
But as the coffee splashes down my throat, I have to wonder—am I in trouble already?
Hollis
Sunlight bounces off the Savannah River. The water is dark and kind of moody as I watch it from a little sitting area I found. It’s not far from Judy’s—my original destination. But the sign on the door said she was closed today, so I walked on by until I found this place.