Total pages in book: 162
Estimated words: 153946 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 770(@200wpm)___ 616(@250wpm)___ 513(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 153946 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 770(@200wpm)___ 616(@250wpm)___ 513(@300wpm)
“I’m here, Gus.”
I took my boots off before lying back carefully on the mattress beside her. Over the covers again. Head against a pillow that smelled like August.
I closed my eyes and breathed deeply, hoping she’d take the hint and pass out before I forgot to do the right thing.
“I was planning to get you here for an entirely different reason tonight.”
My cock flexed against my jeans at her admission. Knowing we’d been on the same page only made this harder. Made me harder. “Is that right?”
“It is. You were going to be putty in my hands.”
My smile was strained in the darkness. “Another time, Gus. You’ve had a rough day and tonight isn’t the night.”
I could practically hear the wheels turning in her head. Why wasn’t she going back to sleep?
She needs a friend, not a fuck.
Damn it.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“No,” she said too swiftly to be believable. I waited in silence until she added, “I wasn’t expecting to react like that.”
She was talking about her mother’s ashes. “I know.”
“Morgan went to the street where it happened. Walked it. Even if I’d gone with her, I couldn’t have done that. I wouldn’t be strong enough.”
I reached for her hand, instinctively twining my fingers with hers. “I don’t believe that. I think you’d handle it fine.”
“Really?”
Not wanting to cross any lines, but unable to keep my mouth shut, I exhaled slowly and said, “Morgan had to see the street, thank your friend and stand in the church, because it was the tangible, physical proof she needed to process that Sam was gone. But that proof has been around you for nearly two years, hasn’t it? You live here, work here, the view from your window is the first and last thing you see every day… Italy might be where she left, but this was where she lived. After handling that, I think you could take on anything.”
She squeezed my hand and spoke quietly into the darkness. “It sounds strange to say, because it’s a natural part of life, isn’t it? Parents dying before we do? But sometimes it feels like I’ve lost a physical part of my body. She’s always been there holding me up, and now she’s not. I keep waiting to get my balance back, to find a new normal. Then something like this happens and it knocks me flat on my ass again.”
Sam’s death had spun us all, but I knew it wasn’t the same. I didn’t want to imagine how I’d feel if anything ever happened to my sister or Phoebe.
“I barely remember my mom,” I started carefully. “Bernie was still a baby when she died and I wasn’t much older. There are still times when I wonder what she would think of me now. My decisions. How I live my life. You have over forty years of memories with Sam. It’s a gift, that time, but maybe it comes with a price. And you two were closer than most. As far as I know, the only time you were really separated was when she was married.”
“Dysfunctional and codependent are the words you’re looking for. I’m very familiar with them.” She didn’t sound offended. Just resigned. “One of the reasons I wanted to get this house was to pay her back for all the times she supported me when I was in my struggling writer, barely-working-for-minimum-wage phase.”
“You did that. She was happy here. And whatever anyone wants to call your relationship, it worked for you both and you still loved each other at the end of the day. I think being loved like that has to be worth whatever pain comes after. Even if it ends up knocking you on your ass.”
Losing August after finally knowing what it felt like to touch her, talk to her and be myself around her? That would be a hard fucking fall.
She raised her free hand to swipe her eyes. Shit. Had I made her cry? “You’re very philosophical in the dark, Wade Hudson. But I wish you didn’t have to be so nice.”
“I’m not that nice.” I let her hand go to trace her arm with my fingers, loving her softness. The way she moved in closer, silently asking for more.
“You really are. And it’s not fair, because you’re already a gorgeous, mechanically gifted man with healthy family relationships and financial security. Honestly, I’m not sure how you’re single, other than the fact that you were recently homeless and you spend all your free time with Gene and his buddies.”
I huffed out a laugh. “That has put a crimp in my eligible-bachelor status.”
When she scooted closer and leaned her head on my shoulder, I took the opportunity to press my lips to her hair.
“Is that why you’re not interested in Lemons anymore?” she asked. “Because it’s affecting your love life?”