Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 89012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89012 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
“There,” Sara says, turning the screen toward me. “Want to proof it?”
Seeing the words on the screen hits harder than reading them on paper in the privacy of the house. When they’re in the text box of a program that can reach millions or billions of people, things become a bit more overwhelming. Vulnerable. Real.
“Sara …”
“Looks good to me,” Rebecca says over my shoulder.
Sara holds my gaze. “Look good to you?”
“I mean, it’s grammatically correct but—Sara!”
Her finger clicked the mouse, and the post delivers to the world wide web.
I gasp, my back hitting the wooden chair rails, and stare at the screen. But with each passing second, my panic eases.
What do I really have to lose? The people who love me—Rebecca, Sara, Mom—all think it’s a good idea. And to be honest, I know I’m in good hands.
I exhale slowly.
“I need to get this,” Rebecca says, looking at her phone. “Be right back.”
She steps through the back door and onto the small patio to take the call.
I stand. There’s too much nervous energy floating around my body to sit still much longer. Sara follows suit.
“I need to go,” Sara says. “I just wanted to come and do this, but I need to finish a few spreadsheets that will probably take me most of the night. Tell Becca that I said goodbye.”
“Okay.”
We make our way to the door.
“I’m not going to thank you for doing that just yet,” I say. “But I’m hoping you’re right about this whole honeymoon date thing.”
She taps the tip of my nose. “I’m your fairy godmother. Just watch.” With a quick wink, she’s out the front door.
I stand alone in the foyer with my head spinning. What just happened?
I dig my phone out of the sofa to call my mother. As soon as I unlock the screen, I see Maddox’s last text—one that must’ve come in while I was dealing with Sara.
My smile is instantaneous, and I don’t try to fight it. Nor do I fight the warmth that I feel when reading his name.
This whole thing with Maddox lately is weird. I don’t hate it; I’m just not sure what to think of it. He’s been a part of my life for so many years. He’s just been there. But now he’s consistently there—every day. Multiple times. In different ways.
Sure, we’ve texted before but not like this. We’ve flirted our whole lives but not to this level. I’ve looked at him and thought how hot he is a million times, but I’ve never actually wanted to strip him naked like I have since I’ve been home.
I’ve only been back in Kismet Beach for two weeks, and it feels like something has shifted. I’m more … aware of him. Interested rather than amused. His awareness of me is peculiar now as well. In a way, it’s as if we’ve just met and have that fun magnetism you get after a meet-cute.
But we’re not strangers. We’re old friends.
Am I just feeling the effects of freedom, or is this dynamic new? Is he aware of the same shift?
I sigh.
Maybe I’m reading too much into this. I’m probably reading way too much into this. He’s still Maddox Carmichael, playboy extraordinaire. The man who declared himself a proverbial bachelor in our eighth-grade yearbook. Nothing has changed.
You know he flirts with everyone like this. Stop overthinking. Don’t make it uncomfortable.
Maddox: I don’t think I told you, but you looked very pretty in my office yesterday. I was just thinking about it so I thought you should know just in case you needed a little boost of confidence.
Maddox: Not that you need it. Just saying.
Me: A girl can always use a boost of confidence.
Maddox: Everything okay?
Me: I think so.
Maddox: We should hook her up with Banks and see who can out-bad influence the other first.
I laugh.
Me: That would be fun fireworks. Almost as fun as watching your face when I send you this pic in a minute.
Maddox: REALLY?
Me: No.
Maddox:
Maddox: Quick question—do you like basketball?
Me: No. Why?
Maddox: No reason.
I furrow my brow. What is that all about?
Me: A little odd but okay.
Maddox: I’ll tell you for a picture.
Me: I’m not that worried about it.
Maddox: Figures. If you need a new one of me, just let me know. I’ve been doing pull-ups all night to get a pump just in case.
Me:
Maddox: That’s what I usually get. Eyes rolling in the back of heads.
My smile is unstoppable. The small laugh that topples from my lips can’t be halted either. It feels good. Free. Fun.
I’ve missed this.
Me: Don’t take this the wrong way, but I missed you. Thank you for always making space for me in your life, you know?
It takes him a long couple of seconds to respond. But, when he does, my throat pulls tight.