Total pages in book: 176
Estimated words: 164533 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 823(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164533 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 823(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
When I woke up the next morning, though, he was still there, sleeping soundly beside me. I kissed his temple then crawled out of bed and went to shower.
My mom was arriving in a couple hours, and I was excited but also a little nervous to see her. Would she notice the change in me? Would she be able to tell I’d been sleeping with a kind, caring Irish boy who made my heart flutter whenever our eyes locked? And what exactly was she going to tell me when we finally sat down to talk about the big thing she and Padraig fought over?
Rhys was awake by the time I emerged from the shower, my wet hair wrapped up in a towel while another was secured around my body. I expected him to say something sexy at my state of undress, perhaps pull me over to the bed and start kissing me while he divested me of my towel, but he didn’t. Instead, he sat up, a troubled look on his face.
“My dad was arrested last night,” he stated, and my stomach dropped.
I stepped close to the bed and sat down next to him, taking his hand in mine and linking our fingers. “Does that mean he signed the papers? Did you finally go to the police?”
Rhys had explained to me why he’d been waiting to go forward with the footage of his father attacking him. I hadn’t liked the idea of postponing, but I understood his reasoning. His mother needed that divorce.
“I did, but that wasn’t why he was arrested. He’d been down the pub, ‘celebrating the divorce’,” he replied glumly. “Started telling everyone the drinks were on him, and then when they refused to let him set up a tab, he started smashing the place up.”
“Oh my God,” I squeezed his fingers, my belly twisting. Poor Rhys.
“Padraig thinks he’ll get at least two years, possibly three or four.” He fell quiet, exhaling heavily. “I just want him gone. Mam and me need a break. The chaos he brings into our lives … it’s fucking exhausting. I can’t deal with it anymore.”
“Rhys,” I whispered softly, empathy swelling in my chest as I pressed a kiss to his cheek then wrapped my arms around him. I hugged him tight, and we stayed like that for a while. Somewhere along the way, he started kissing me, his lips on my shoulder then my neck. Before I knew it, I was flat on my back on the bed, the towel spread wide as Rhys kissed his way down my body.
“Wait,” I breathed. “We can’t. I have to get ready. My mom’s arriving this morning, and I’m going to the airport to meet her.”
Rhys’ disappointed expression made me chuckle. He was too cute. “Oh, man, you love doing that so much, don’t you? Whatever lucky woman gets to marry you someday is in for a real treat.” Both my friends, Gwyn and Lydia, had been sexually active, and neither of them had mentioned their boyfriends being as enthused to go downtown as Rhys always was.
“I just really like doing it to you,” he answered back, an odd expression on his face at my statement about his future wife. Maybe it was difficult to think that far ahead or to believe in marriage at all after how his parents had ended up. Unbidden, something pinched at my chest to imagine Rhys years into the future, creating a life with someone else. I’d be a long forgotten, perhaps fond, memory. The girl he’d lost his virginity to that one summer in Dublin.
“We don’t have time,” I said, pushing away the strange jealousy I felt thinking of Rhys being married to some woman who wouldn’t be me. “Also, aren’t you going running with Derek this morning?”
Ever since his injuries had healed, Rhys had been exercising with my cousin almost every day. I was pretty sure he’d already lost a couple pounds. Although that could just as easily be from all the sex we were having. It was very effective cardio.
With a parting kiss, he went. My heart clenched watching him go. With the divorce papers signed and his father arrested, I hoped life was going to get better for Rhys going forward.
Later, I stood at Arrivals at the airport waiting for Mom. Uncle Padraig had offered for his driver, Stephen, to bring me, but I’d insisted on getting the bus. As soon as she stepped through the gates, I ran for her, hugging her tight.
“It’s so good to see you,” Mom breathed.
“You, too,” I replied. “I’ve missed you like crazy.”
We took a cab back to the house since I wasn’t going to subject my mother to public transport after her long plane journey. Aunt Jo and Nuala were home, and even Uncle Padraig came back on his lunch break to welcome her. I was oddly emotional seeing Mom reunited with her brother, especially since they’d fought for so long. Aunt Jo seemed friendly but reserved. There was also something tense in the set of Padraig’s shoulders that put me on edge. I started to fret that they were all keeping something monumental from me, but I couldn’t fathom what it might be.