Total pages in book: 166
Estimated words: 157273 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157273 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 786(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
I stared at Gavin and tried to breathe, tried to make any sense of his words. “My blood?”
Color drained from his face, and he retreated a step. “Shit,” he muttered, his eyes sliding shut.
“What the hell do you mean, my blood?” My voice rose and I fought the nauseating sensation of gravity shifting.
“Just . . .” He retreated down the steps, keeping his eyes on me like I was a mountain cat he knew better than to turn his back on. “He thinks you won’t forgive him, and you have to, Allie. Just let him hold on this time, and not just for him. You need each other. You two are the shit poets write about.”
What was that supposed to mean?
“Gavin!” I shouted as he reached the car.
He pulled out of the driveway and left me standing on the porch, second-guessing everything I thought I knew about the last ten years.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Hudson
Devon2Sharpe: RousseauSisters4, just wanted to know the meaning of your handle. I thought there were only two of you?
ReeseOnToe: Devon2Sharpe, there are three alive. One plays an admin role in the company, and they lost their oldest sister in a car accident that Alessandra survived.
Devon2Sharpe: ReeseOnToe oh shit, I didn’t know. Thx
ReeseOnToe: NP. Alina was a spectacular dancer, too. You can find some of her stuff on YouTube.
She’s on the beach. That was all Anne was willing to tell me when I got to Allie’s, but the look she dealt out said it was my fault. Yeah, dropping that New York information on her and splitting probably wasn’t my best course of action, but I’d been feeling all hopeful and shit.
Not so much anymore.
I blew out a slow breath, accepting my fate, and made my way through the backyard and down the steps. Good thing I’d stopped at my house to change out of uniform. Sand was a bitch when it got in my boots.
Allie sat on the end of the pier, staring out over the ocean. My chest clenched as I crossed the wooden expanse. This morning’s hope had transformed into tonight’s problem when my email pinged during the morning meeting, and what seemed like an easy hurdle to jump now felt a canyon. Orders had come in, and I wouldn’t be going anywhere soon.
I’d be in Cape Cod, while Allie most likely took the New York contract. This was going to suck, but we could handle a fight. The fight would be good for us, force us to define what we were really doing, which had left the fling department weeks ago, somewhere between me giving her a key with her drawer and her freeing up closet space for a few of my uniforms. Flings didn’t make room for each other in their lives the way we had.
“Hey,” I said so I didn’t startle her, then lowered myself to sit at her side, letting my legs dangle above the water.
She fidgeted with her hands but didn’t look over.
“I’m guessing you’re pissed that I asked for New York,” I started, “but it turned out to be nothing. I got my orders, and I’m staying here.” Caroline would eventually be thrilled once she was done being pissed at me. “I hope you know I’d never expect you to take the Boston contract or anything. I fully support you going back to MBC if that’s what you want.”
No response.
“Allie?” I studied her profile and flinched when she didn’t so much as look my way. Shit. She’d thrown her walls right back up in the three hours I’d been gone. “I know I should have talked to you about changing it, but . . .” I took the deepest breath of my life and dove straight into what was going to be the most important fight of our lives. One I wasn’t willing to lose. Not again. “But I don’t want this to end. I know you’re leaving in the next few days, but we can make this work. I have a favor I can call in at the assignment desk, and if that doesn’t work, I’ll come down on weekends so you don’t lose studio time. I’ll fold myself into your life—”
“My father always told us that waves come in sets,” she interrupted, staring out at the ocean as those very waves broke against the pylons beneath us.
My stomach tensed. Holy shit, I was in bigger trouble than I thought if we were talking about science. “They can,” I agreed, “depending on if they’re caused by wind or storms, and the shape of the ocean floor—”
“He told us that individual waves move faster, but when they group in deep water, they move slower because they’re connected by the same energy.” Her left hand moved over her right, spinning something around her finger. “They’re bound as a set, traveling through the water until the landscape changes with the shoreline.” She paused. “And then they break one by one.”