Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 130307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 652(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 652(@200wpm)___ 521(@250wpm)___ 434(@300wpm)
God, why did he have to look at me like that?
It was too easy to convince myself that he felt something, too. That he found me attractive. That he found me irresistible.
Which was ridiculous, and likely far from reality.
But was it?
The room spun and time slowed as I walked the short distance to that table, Will’s eyes latched onto me every step of the way. He only let that gaze brush over my outfit for a split second before he held my stare, and he didn’t blink, didn’t waver, didn’t smile or wave.
He just watched me like it was torture to have me coming closer.
He was a sight with his long, chestnut hair down instead of pulled back, the strands of it shaping the hard edges of his jaw. As promised, he wore his jersey to match Ava, but he’d paired it with black joggers and sneakers that made him look both professional and cozy enough to curl up with on the couch.
His golden eyes held both heat and sadness, like there was a war inside him between holding on to the pain of the past five years, and moving forward into a future that was beckoning him to be reborn. The way he watched me made me want to hold him and let him cry just as much as it made me want to straddle his lap and do my very best to remember anything from those Cosmo magazines I’d read years ago.
“Chloe!” Ava said when I reached the table, and she broke the spell I was under when she hopped out of her seat and threw her arms around my legs before breaking away excitedly. “Look what we made!”
She pointed to the middle of the table where a triangular dome of donuts had been built, a precariously leaning structure of deliciousness that looked as yummy as it did dangerous.
“Wow!” I said, bending at the waist and planting my hands on my knees to inspect the sticky architecture. “You all did this?”
Ava nodded emphatically. “Yep!”
“It was Gunner’s idea,” Gunner’s dad said proudly.
“And look what I drew!” Charlotte said from beside him, nearly knocking down their donut tower in her effort to show me how she’d illustrated the table of people she sat with — as donuts.
I had to cover my mouth not to laugh at the sight of Will as a donut — complete with long flowing hair, a hockey stick, and a scowl drawn with two deep black crayon lines between his googly eyes.
“That,” I said, taking the paper from her hands. “Is one for the wall.”
She clapped with glee as I left long enough to hang the drawing with a thumbtack on the cork board, and then I rejoined them, having a seat at one of the small chairs between Will and Charlotte’s dad.
I got caught up in a conversation with Mr. West about how his daughter had been doing since the death of their dog, that had been around since before she was born. I listened intently and assured him that she was doing great, all while I felt a pair of eyes burning into the back of my head.
Why was it so hard to even look at him?
Eventually, Mr. West released me, and I smiled at the others at the table — finding them all engaged in activities or conversations. Even Ava was bent over a new drawing with Charlotte, the two of them delegating who would color what.
Which left me no choice but to look to my left.
At Will.
There was no avoiding the heat that crept from my neck all the way down to my toes as I turned to face him, and I hoped my smile was the kind that could cover my stupid crush. I hoped it screamed professionalism. I hoped it did not scream hey, I had a wet dream about you last night!
“So, which donut was your favorite?” I asked.
And then I promptly cringed, and tucked my hair behind my ear only to untuck it, and then cracked my knuckles before grimacing in horror when I realized Will was cataloguing each nervous tic.
I folded my hands together and stuck them in my lap to prevent further embarrassment.
“Don’t do that.”
Chills swept over my shoulders and down to my fingertips at those gruff words leaving his mouth.
“Do what?”
“Try to make small talk with me when we live together.”
I thought I saw a dad at the table ahead of us angle his head at that, like he was suddenly more interested in what was happening at our table.
I lowered my voice and cleared my throat. “Sorry.”
Will arched a brow at me in warning.
“What?! I apologize a lot, okay? Get over it.”
I waited for him to growl something back at me, but instead, he just… stared. His golden eyes held mine captive, like he was searching for something.