Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 106797 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106797 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
I blushed, covering my face with my pillow. “Lo!”
“Well, am I on track so far?”
Rolling my eyes, I waved my hand at her to continue, cocking a brow in amusement.
“So you had this super romantic weekend together, which is already weird because it’s Rhodes, but on top of it all, you did so with both of you knowing in the back of your mind that he found a note on his bike that said to stay away from you and he thinks it’s written in his dead sister’s handwriting?”
“Willow,” I warned, shaking my head. “Have a little respect.”
“Okay, his assumed-to-be-dead sister.”
“That’s not any better.”
“But am I right?”
I sighed, tucking my pillow closer to my chest and resting my chin on the edge. “Pretty much.”
Willow clicked her tongue. “Jeepers, chica. I think your summer is more interesting than my entire life.” I chuckled, not moving my head from its resting place on the pillow. She watched me through the screen for a moment. “You really like him, don’t you?”
I nodded.
“It scares the shit out of you.” She said it as a statement, not a question. I simply nodded again.
“It’s just, when I first met Rhodes, he was so closed off to me. To the world. And now that he’s letting me in, it’s like he’s pulling me down fast into an ocean of feelings I’ve never felt before.”
“And you think you’ll drown?”
I swallowed. “I know I will. I’m the ship, he’s the water. It never ends well for me when there’s a storm.”
Willow blinked. “Are you turning into me? That totally sounds like some shit I would say.”
“Someone in Poxton Beach has to take your place. Might as well be me.”
“Please,” she said, waving her hand at the screen and checking the polish on her nails. “No one can think of bullshit clichés like I can. But valiant effort, Nat.”
She winked and we both laughed. Willow took it as an opportunity to change the subject, which I was grateful for.
“So Mom and Dale come home tonight?”
“Yeah, they should be here in a couple of hours.”
“You going to tell them about you and Rhodes?”
I frowned. “I don’t know yet.”
Willow shook her head. “You couldn’t just fall for a banker’s son? Or wait until college and find a lawyer-to-be? Something boring and predictable that would save you this emotional tug of war and make your parents happy?”
“I’ve been doing boring my entire life,” I said, shrugging. “I’ll take whatever heartache is coming to feel this alive for a while longer.”
Willow smirked, braiding her long hair to the side. “My best friend is growing up.”
“I’ll have wrinkles soon.”
“Or gray hair.”
“Probably both.”
“Don’t worry,” Willow assured me. “I’ve read anti-aging blog posts. I know just the cream and hair dye to fix all of that. As long as your vag doesn’t dry up, we should be good.”
I laughed. “I miss you.”
“Miss you more.”
After hearing horror stories about Willow’s roommate and refusing to tell her anything about my experience going down on Rhodes, we reluctantly ended our video chat just as I heard the front door opening downstairs. Christina had already gone home for the evening, so I knew it was Mom and Dale.
Tossing my hair up into a messy bun, I skipped downstairs, excited to hear about their trip up north. As soon as my feet hit the bottom stair and I saw my mom’s mascara-streaked face, my stomach fell.
“Mom?”
She choked on a sob, her hand flying up to cover her lips.
“Oh my God, what’s wrong? What happened?” I flew from the stairs and pulled her into a hug. She folded into me easily, leaving all of her weight for me to hold. I felt the tears run from her eyes and soak through my t-shirt, but I only held her tighter.
When another car door slammed outside, Mom’s head snapped up. Wiping at her face, she urged me toward the stairs. “Go upstairs, honey. I’ll come to your room in a little bit.”
“No, I’m not going anywhere. Is he high?”
She smiled, but another tear fell from the apple of her cheek onto the hardwood floor. “It’s okay, sweetie. I just want to get him to bed and then I’ll come up. I promise.”
“I can help you,” I said, making a move toward the door.
“No!” The tone of her voice surprised me and I halted. “Damnit, Natalie, do as your told and go to your room!” My mouth popped open and Mom bit her lip, closing her eyes tight. “I’m sorry. Please, honey, just give me a few minutes.”
The door swung open behind her and Dale stumbled through the frame. His dark hair was slick with sweat, his eyes rimmed in red. When they found mine, I gulped.
I’d always seen Dale as nurturing, kind of like the father I’d never had. He was caring and calm, patient and understanding. He was a businessman, firm but compassionate. But that night, all I saw when I looked into his eyes was a menacing calm that scared me more than I would admit to myself.