Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 103030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
But this is the real world, and there are no remote controls to stop the bad.
Sadly.
“Oops,” I say, planting a hand on his chest. I start to push off, to get back to my own two feet, but I don’t quite have the strength, or the desire, to disconnect myself from him yet. Instead, I stare into his eyes. “I didn’t mean to fall into you.”
He grins but doesn’t move a muscle either. “It’s a thing with you, isn’t it?”
“What?”
His hand clenches a bit tighter on my hip. “You just keep running into me.”
“At least there’s nothing to zip tie this time.”
His eyes darken. And then as if he just realizes that he’s essentially holding me in his arms in the parking lot, he frees me from his clutches.
I stand, wobbling a second as I get myself together. How did it feel more comfortable in his arms than it does out of them?
Oliver straightens his shirt and heaves a deep breath.
Goose bumps shoot across my skin, reminding me of the particulars of the situation.
I need to say something. I can’t stand the silence in all of its trickiness, and if I don’t say something, who knows what might come out of his mouth?
“My middle name is Lilliana,” I tell him. “It’s after my grandmother.”
His hand falls slowly back to his side. He looks at me cagily.
“I like the color blue,” I say. “Deep rather than light. My favorite food is macaroni and cheese. The blue Kraft box, if I get a choice.”
The corner of his lips turn up.
I start to walk toward my car. He follows beside me.
“My favorite movie is Steel Magnolias. I was obsessed with that movie growing up. I named my cat Ouiser when I was nine,” I say.
He nods but doesn’t respond.
“I always thought that I’d have a daughter and name her Shelby Lilliana someday,” I say, pushing a strand of hair out of my face. “I was stuck on a boy’s name, though. Drum lent itself to a lot of jokes, and I was never a big fan of Jackson.” We stop at the front of my car. “I was always convinced he was cheating on Shelby.”
“I’ve seen that movie.”
“You have?”
He nods. “My cousin Larissa loves it. That and Fried Green Tomatoes.”
“Oh! I love that one too!”
Oliver grins. “You’d love Riss then.”
The wind picks up again. I turn my back away to shield myself from the dust being thrown around the parking lot.
“What else is there to know about you, Shaye?” he asks.
It might be the softness of his voice. It could be the smoothness of his tone. Still, it could be the way my name feels so intimate wrapped around the twang of his voice. All I know for certain is that the simple question feels a whole lot more complex than it should.
I raise my eyes to meet his. In a flash, my shoulders fall.
All I see in Oliver’s eyes is sincerity—an honest-to-goodness request to get to know me as a person.
I search his features, looking desperately for a sign of deceit. What does he have to gain from this? Would answering it put me at a disadvantage? Do I trust him?
Uncertainty bubbles inside me. The possibility of lowering my guard and being open with this man sends a spike of adrenaline surging through my veins. But the fact that I’m even considering it, something I haven’t done for anyone in a very long time, tells me that maybe it’s okay to open up.
Just a little.
“I don’t know my father,” I admit, my voice just a notch above a whisper. “My mother and I don’t really see eye to eye. About anything.” I swallow past the lump in my throat and look at the ground. “I haven’t talked to her in three years.”
I focus on a bubble gum wrapper that has landed at my feet.
“That’s a long time not to talk to your mother,” Oliver says
“Yeah.” I bend down and pick up the thin waxy paper. “She took my husband’s side in our marriage and then blamed me when he died.”
The words fall from my lips and land in the space between us. This is what absolute silence sounds like.
As if Oliver should have something to say about that, Shaye.
Oliver shifts his weight from one foot to the other.
“I know that sounds like I’m a terrible person,” I say with a sigh. “I mean, whose mother does that? It paints me in a really bad light, but—”
“But nothing.”
My attention snaps to him.
His eyes are narrowed, his lips pressed into a firm line.
“I feel like I should explain,” I tell him.
“If you want to, then sure. I’ll listen. I’d love to know why your mom took someone else’s side in your marriage. It would justify my anger right now.”
I lift my chin.
“But there’s really no explanation needed for your pain, Shaye. And all I really care about is you.”