Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 103721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
I’m not paying attention. How can I? Between the grief threatening to suffocate me and the overwhelming love I have for this girl, I can’t focus on shit. Damn it, she smells divine. Like bergamot and apple blossoms and her. Emery. I look over at her, fighting the urge to bury my face in her neck to drown in her scent.
I mean, hell, she’s absolutely exquisite. Her wild curls are up in a high, thick bun with sweet tendrils falling all around her temples. Her gray eyes that are bloodshot from crying are framed by thick, dark lashes, while her lips are swollen from where I assume she is biting the inside of her lip. A nervous habit she has. She’s put on a bit of weight, and I love how round her face is. My hands itch to cup her cheeks, feel the weight and heat of them.
I miss her. I love her. I want her.
Badly.
She looks over at me, and her breath catches. We don’t say anything, just stare at each other, until she reaches out, tucking my hair behind my ear. “You need a haircut.”
She smiles, and my lips curve slightly as her fingers brush my temple. “I don’t know. I might grow it out.”
“Don’t. I love it all clean-cut, like you belong in a boardroom instead of an OR.” I look away, taking a deep breath. “How is school going?”
I hate how painful this is. I feel like it’s amplified by the grief flowing through me. “Good, really good. How’s work?”
“Work,” she says offhandedly as I glance back up at her. Deep sadness swirls in her gray eyes, leaving me breathless. “It’s weird being here when they aren’t.”
“Yeah.”
“It doesn’t feel real.”
I have to shake my head because it feels unreal that she’s beside me, her body touching mine and intoxicating me with her perfume. My heart acts as a kick drum against my ribs when I look up to meet her gaze. “Did your family come?”
She nods. “Yeah. They’re at the hotel.”
“Why did you come here?”
Her brows knit as her eyes search mine. “I wanted to. I just talked to Grandma last week. You know I loved them, Quinn.”
I shake my head. “I don’t question that, but you could have seen us tomorrow.”
“I didn’t want to. I wanted to see you tonight.”
“Is that why you looked right at me?”
“I always look for you first,” she says simply and with a shrug, as if her statement is as normal as breathing.
“But you can’t text or call other than my birthday and holidays?” I throw back, my eyes burning into hers.
Her lips press together as she turns, her knees knocking into mine. “Are we really going to fight?”
“I don’t want to fight.”
“Then what are you doing?” she asks, her eyes searching mine. “I came here to be with everyone because I loved this family and your grandparents as mine. Yeah, I gravitated to you from the jump because I miss you, Quinn. I’m not sorry for that, but I refuse to fight when we’re both sad. I want to just be with you. Grieve with you.”
I have to look away to hide the tears that are burning in my eyes. “So, you didn’t come for me?”
I don’t know why I’m asking that. It doesn’t matter if she did; I’m engaged. Something I need to tell her before she finds out from someone else. Like Aiden—or her mom, if Aiden tells her.
In a small voice, basically a whisper, she admits, “Maybe I did.”
I almost crack my neck, whipping up to look at her. “You did?”
“Selfishly, I wanted you to myself before you’re with everyone tomorrow.”
I blink. “So, you came to hook up?”
Her gray eyes turn to steel, and then they narrow. “Don’t be a jackass, Quinnifer. That’s not what I meant. We have history here—”
“Fuck, Emery, of course we have history. We’ve known each other since we were in diapers. There isn’t a memory I have that doesn’t include you. So, how did you want me to yourself, if not naked?”
I want to say I prepared myself for her to slap me, but I didn’t. Her hand cracks across my face with a vengeance. I cover the cheek she just slapped with my hand as she glares at me. “That’s not fair.”
“What’s not fair is that you haven’t had any contact with me, but then you presume we’ll fall into the way things were.”
“We always have,” she says with a shrug. “Nothing has changed.”
I scoff, shaking my head. “Everything has changed, Emery.”
“I mean, sure—”
“I’m getting married.”
Just as it did when I heard my grandparents had passed, my world stops. Emery’s eyes darken to storm clouds as her eyes narrow even further. Her brows shoot up in shock, but she recovers quickly. Only I would see the pain in her eyes. Because I know this girl better than I know myself. She looks down at her left hand and then back to me. “I don’t have a ring, nor did you ask me.”