Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 94687 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94687 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
And all of a sudden, I’d heard his voice calling my name. When I looked up, he was there. Like a ghost from the past, he was right there. I’d been so stunned, I’d tripped over my own feet.
Then we were face to face, he was helping me up, and my heartbeat couldn’t seem to find its normal rhythm.
And . . . I’d laughed. Maybe it was nerves, maybe it was panic, but suddenly the situation struck me as funny, and I’d laughed. And he’d grinned. Then it was almost as if no time had passed at all. It had felt natural to hug him. Good, in fact. Like finding a missing puzzle piece and snapping it into place.
I circled the track a few more times, going over it again and again. Picturing his face. Recalling the solid feel of his arms around me.
Of course, he was still gorgeous. Maybe he had the tiniest hint of gray in his scruff and a slightly broader torso, but he was just as tall, dark, and handsome as he’d been in high school.
But there was something different in his eyes now—I could see it. Back then, he was all lethal intensity when he was on the mound, and all cocky strut when he was off it. Today I saw something else—vulnerability. It was hidden behind some gruff attitude and dickhead bluster, but I saw it. And I knew a little about what he’d gone through the past few years—everyone did. He wasn’t wrong about that.
It got to me . . . I knew what it was like to feel as if you’d been put to the test and failed. I knew what it was like to feel haunted by the past. I knew what it was like to be afraid of people judging you. And I wanted him to know I was still his friend. He hadn’t failed me.
Also? I was damn proud of myself. I’d handled seeing him again even better than I’d expected, and I was actually looking forward to seeing him tonight. After a few minutes of stretching on the grass, I got in my car and drove home, windows down, radio up, a smile on my face.
I was bursting to tell someone what happened, so as soon as I got to Cloverleigh, I went right to Chloe’s new office and knocked on her open door.
She looked up from unpacking a cardboard box on her desk. “Hey,” she said. “What’s up?”
I shut the door behind me and leaned back against it, breathless. “I saw him.”
“Who?” She looked confused.
“Tyler!”
Her jaw dropped. “What? Where? When?”
“This morning. Six a.m. The high school track. I was walking. He was running the bleachers.” My words tumbled out in a rush.
“And?”
“And he said hello.”
“And?”
“I said hello back. We hugged. It was awkward for a minute, but then it was just . . .” I paused for some air. “Nice.”
Chloe gasped. “Really? It was nice?”
“Really. He asked if I wanted to have dinner later, and I said yes.”
My sister looked me over with a shrewd eye and nodded. “Well, that explains it.”
“Explains what?”
“The Beyoncé hair.”
“What Beyoncé hair?” I asked, touching the soft waves cascading over one shoulder. As if I hadn’t left my hair down today on purpose instead of pulling it back like I usually did at work. As if I hadn’t tried on and discarded ten different outfits before leaving the house. As if I hadn’t put a pair of sexy heels in my shoulder bag.
But she couldn’t even see them!
She eyeballed me for another moment and then sniffed. “Are you wearing perfume?”
I rolled my eyes. “Stop it. It’s not like that.”
Laughing, she shook her head. “No way I can stop now. And you’re the one who came rushing in here to announce your dinner date.”
“It’s not a date! And I came rushing in here because I was proud of how well I handled seeing him again, thank you very much. I wanted to share it with you.”
“Okay, okay. I’m proud of you too,” she said, her tone softer. “I don’t mean to tease. Although I am a little shocked.”
“Same.” I shook my head. “I was standing there looking at him, thinking he should feel like a total stranger, but he didn’t.”
“Well, you went through something pretty major together.” Chloe took a framed photo of herself and Oliver as kids from the box and set it on a shelf. “Even though you haven’t stayed in close touch, that kind of thing is always going to bind you.”
“Maybe.”
“So did the whole . . .” Turning toward me, she touched her stomach. “Baby thing come up at all?”
“No,” I said quickly. “We only chatted for a few minutes.”
“About what?”
“Different things. He actually got a little testy when the subject of baseball came up. He’s definitely aware that people around here remember the way he was, and he’s embarrassed that his career didn’t turn out the way he planned.”