Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 153268 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 766(@200wpm)___ 613(@250wpm)___ 511(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 153268 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 766(@200wpm)___ 613(@250wpm)___ 511(@300wpm)
Now, my stomach flipped at the memory of being pressed against the snow beneath Row three nights ago, of that kiss that had electrocuted me, before he’d disappeared to London without as much as a goodbye. I’d had to hear through Dylan that he was on another continent.
“Go away,” I groaned.
Semus, beside me, doubled down with a loud, dismissive meow.
“You’re welcome for the free catering,” Row growled beneath my window. He appeared to be in a great mood. Had he murdered someone? Not that I condoned that type of action, but I hoped that Allison was the victim.
I buried my face in my pillow. It was too early, too cold. Plus, I felt under the weather after spreading Dad’s ashes in Moxie Falls a couple days ago.
One promise down, another one to go.
“Dot, I’m counting to ten.”
“Good for you. What a milestone to celebrate just shy of your twenty-eighth birthday.”
“Joke’s on you when I get up there,” he threatened.
“What will you do to me?” I raised my head from the pillow, my curiosity piqued. Please let it be filthy. And naked. And full of bodily fluids.
There was a beat of silence. What, no comeback from Mr. Sarcastic? I stared at my window with my heart in my throat.
“Just come down, will you?” His voice sounded tired and…defeated? Could it be? “Fuck. I’m trying to be there for you, but I’m out of my depth here. The restaurant is closed down for the foreseeable future and I have a crazy stalker running around freely. Quit being difficult and come down already.”
“Oh. Shit. Are you okay?” I bolted upright, brushing my hair with my fingers, running to the window. The mere sight of him soothed my soul. Oh God. I was so freaking screwed.
“Yes. No.” He scrubbed a hand over his face tiredly. “I don’t know.”
“Give me five.” I dragged myself out of bed. Semus stayed inside, squinting at me patronizingly as I collected my hair into a bun and slammed my feet into sneakers. “Yeah, I know. You get to sleep in and lick your own balls. Such a winner, Sem.”
After splashing my face and brushing my teeth, I threw my door open and came face-to-face with Row.
He was wearing a black hoodie and gray sweatpants, his usual attire for our morning runs. As soon as he saw me, his frown melted into something else entirely. I loved that he looked at me in a way he never looked at anyone else. Like I wasn’t just a person but an experience.
“What happened?” I asked.
Row shook his head. “Been freezin’ my ass here waiting for you. Let’s start running and I’ll tell you.”
“Fine, but I’m going to yell at you at some point,” I warned.
“What for?” He glowered.
“Kissing me—we can’t do that again, by the way. And leaving without a word. But first, tell me what happened to Descartes.”
Usually, we spent our runs either teasing each other, Row’s way of making sure I wasn’t inside my own head or replaying my flashbacks with Allison. Maybe it was because Row looked pissed off or maybe it was because Dad was somewhere beautiful right now, floating in the wind, being the freest he’d ever been, but for some reason, I didn’t concentrate on the running or my trauma when we started making our way down my street. We jogged lightly, minding the slippery sidewalk with the leftover melted snow.
Row brought me up to speed about what had happened to his restaurant as our feet pounded the pavement. I didn’t know what part annoyed me more—the way people in this town were treating him or how callous Sheriff Menchin was about it.
“I’m not even sure how long Descartes will be closed. We have media appearances booked, food critics scheduled, a whole farewell party… This was supposed to be a fucking celebration. Not a hastily closed business,” he grumped.
“It’ll be open for the last week before Christmas,” I heard myself say. God knew who had given me the authority or knowledge to make such a prediction. “You’ll close it with a bang, and it will be legendary.”
We made it to downtown before I even realized I had run all that way. Something compelled me to announce, “Come on, coffee on me at Dahlia’s Diner.”
He used the hem of his hoodie to wipe the sweat off his forehead, revealing a freakishly defined six-pack. Or was it an eight-pack? I was usually good at math, but not when my entire blood flow rushed to my vagina.
“Nah.” He shook his head. “Don’t feel like another horror show.”
“Don’t let them win,” I chided.
“I’m about to bulldoze over their town to get cut a nice check. I’m the one who is winning. Don’t see a point in rubbing it in their faces, though.”
“Fine. Wait here.” I marched into the diner, returning after a few minutes with two steaming cups of coffee and a box full of pastries. I led him to a bench overlooking the harbor and flipped the box open. He reached for a custard-filled donut. I slapped his hand away. “You’re going to have to earn your food, mister.”