Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 122966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 615(@200wpm)___ 492(@250wpm)___ 410(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 122966 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 615(@200wpm)___ 492(@250wpm)___ 410(@300wpm)
She swallowed hard and breathed unsteadily, and instead of saying anything, she locked her arms around my neck and hugged me tightly.
In some ways, we both had growing up to do. I’d never had a healthy relationship before, and she was so incredibly young.
“Promise me you’ll focus on your studies, Pipsqueak,” I murmured into her hair. “Give your everything in school and secure your future.”
“Stop being such a teacher,” she cried.
It wasn’t the teacher in me who wanted her to achieve her goals.
My vision blurred as I glanced up at the night sky.
“Promise me.” I had to clear my throat.
“Not until you tell me why this feels like a freaking good-bye,” she croaked.
It wasn’t, though I heard it too.
She eased back and wiped at her cheeks, and she eyed me with more sadness than I could bear seeing. “You want to pump the brakes, figuratively speaking, on everything until I move back home again.”
“It’s not about what I selfishly want for myself, Elise.” I slipped my hands to cup her jaw, and I implored her to understand what I was thinking. “Today at the aquarium, I couldn’t stop thinking about how wrong it felt to have you leave Grace and me.”
“Keep thinking that!” she huffed, sniffling.
I smiled woefully. “I will, but it won’t stop me from choosing what’s best for both of us.” I took a breath and realized it was better to let her come to the right conclusion herself. “Say you and I enter a relationship two weeks before you’re set to leave for California. I will understandably miss you a great deal, so you will feel obligated to call often and check in with me. Maybe you’ll call when I get home from work and I’m tired as fuck. You’ll misinterpret my tone…” I raised a brow, hoping she got my point. Because she was the girl who asked what was wrong if a text message didn’t arrive with a smiley face. “Then you’ll spend the rest of the evening fretting instead of working on a paper.”
She chewed on the inside of her cheek and averted her gaze as another tear rolled down.
“You’ll come home for holidays,” I went on quietly. “We’ll be all over each other for a few short days, and then you’ll have to leave again.” I tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “How many days after each trip home do you think you’ll need before you can get past that hurt and concentrate on school again?”
Because the truth of the matter was, Elise was autistic, and the quirks she had couldn’t be flipped on and off at will. She needed structure to feel well. If she pretended she didn’t have any limitations, the distress would come back tenfold.
“What will two years of an emotional roller coaster do to your focus?” I prodded patiently. “How will that work with your anxiety?”
She looked away and wiped at her cheeks.
She knew the answer.
“What I’m saying, sweetheart—” I gathered her hands in mine and kissed her knuckles “—is that you don’t have to worry about any of that. You don’t have to worry about me. I’ll be here, as always. And I know you. I know how your chaotic, brilliant brain works. I know that when I text you, you’ll answer when your mind allows it.”
The fight had left Pipsqueak, and she just curled into my arms and dropped her forehead to the crook of my neck.
I hugged her tightly.
“When you come home for breaks,” I murmured, “we’ll go out for dinner and get to know each other better. You’ll reconnect with Grace and tell me everything you’ve learned.”
“I know you,” she whispered hoarsely.
“You do. You know me better than anyone, but we’ve never behaved like prospective daters with each other.” I stroked her back and breathed her in. She was all natural, having never liked scented body products. Except for a lotion with a scent called Ocean Breeze, which she underlined on every wish list for Christmas. “I want to get to know that side of you too.”
She released a breath and straightened on my lap. “I guess that could be fun,” she admitted reluctantly. “But you’re still promising not to date others, right?”
I chuckled quietly, weirdly happy about her being a little jealous. Or possessive, rather. It meant I wasn’t alone in that arena. “You have my word,” I replied. “I kinda need the same promise from you—and like I said, if you meet someone—”
She literally slapped a hand over my mouth. “Yes, yes, I promise, but I don’t want to hear it. It’s not gonna happen.”
I kissed her palm before she lowered it. “We can do this, baby. You know why?”
She shook her head.
“Because in the end, we’re us.”
That drew a small smile from her. “Pipsqueak and Mister.”
“Always.”
She sighed and leaned forward, kissing me lightly. “If we’re gonna pull this off, I’m not sure I can go the rest of summer like we’ve done so far.”