Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 74390 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74390 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 372(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
“Then tell her that. I’m sure she will understand.”
“You don’t know Skylar.” I handed him a glass of tea as I told him, “She’ll kill me if I don’t come to her wedding.”
“Well, maybe she had the good sense not to invite him.”
“That’s unlikely. His mother and her mother are tight, so I’m pretty sure the whole family will be invited.” I let out a sigh as I added, “And her parents and mine are close, too. They’ll all expect me to be there.”
“That’s a tough one.” Jackson sat down at the kitchen table and shrugged. “You could always skip it.”
“I could... or you could come with me.” I was half-teasing, half-serious as I snickered, “You could pretend to be my better half. That way, I wouldn’t have to talk to anyone, and...”
“No one’s going to buy that I’m your boyfriend, Londyn.”
“Why not?” I walked over and sat down across from him. “You’re handsome and smart, and you have a...”
“So help me, if you say I have a great personality, I’ll get up from this table, and that will be the end of this conversation.”
“Actually, I was going to say you have a good job.” A smirk crossed my lips as I told him, “Your personality is hit or miss.”
“Talk like that isn’t going to help your case.”
“Come on, Jackson. It could be fun.” I leaned in as I told him, “There’s an open bar, and I’m sure Dan-o’s will be catering, so the food will be amazing.”
Jackson frowned as he took a sip of his tea, contemplating my proposal before answering, “But I hate weddings.”
"I know, but I really don't want to go alone. Plus, it's not like we have to stay long. Just a few hours, and then we can leave."
“I don’t know.” He raised an eyebrow at me. "What am I supposed to do while you're schmoozing with your family?"
"The open bar, Jackson. Need I say more?"
I gave him a light-hearted shrug, then took a sip of my drink, waiting eagerly for him to respond. After a few moments, he finally sighed, "Alright, I'll go.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, but I’m going as your friend. Not your boyfriend.”
“Okay, but what ‘bout a really good, close friend?”
“Fine, but no showing out. There will be no PDA or fake shenanigans in the coat closet.”
“You watch entirely too much TV.”
“I mean it, Londyn.”
“I got it. No PDA or shenanigans in the closet.”
“Damn. I’m so gonna regret this.”
“Oh, hush. It’ll be fun.”
We talked a little longer, and then Jackson made himself scarce, leaving me to get Dalton ready for bed. After his bath, I wrapped him up in a fluffy towel and carried him to his bedroom. I helped him into his pajamas and tucked him into bed.
I sat beside Dalton and ran my fingers through his hair watching as he drifted off to sleep. Once I was certain he wasn’t going to wake, I got up and went to my room. After a long day of running around, I was exhausted, so I threw on my pajamas and crawled into bed. My head had barely hit the pillow when my mind drifted to Malcomb.
I shouldn’t have been surprised. All the talk about Skylar’s wedding and going home brought up a lot of old memories that I’d worked hard to forget—like the night he ripped my heart from my chest, and he did it with a smile.
He was right.
I should’ve seen it coming.
Malcomb and I were an unlikely match. Malcomb was outgoing and loved by everyone. He was tall and devastatingly handsome with dark, shaggy hair and gorgeous blue eyes. The second he smiled one of his dashing smiles, the girls would flock around him, doing everything they could to win him over.
I still have no idea why I was the one who’d caught his attention.
I was average height with dirty blonde hair and a figure that wasn't worth mentioning, and in my oversized plain tees and baggy jeans, I was basically invisible to everyone around me.
But Malcomb not only saw me, he wanted to date me.
We were together for just over two years, and I thought everything was wonderful. I adored him, and I thought he adored me. When he broke it off with me, it nearly destroyed me. I’d worked hard to put him and the hurt he’d caused behind me. It had taken me years, and there were still times when I missed him desperately.
I often wondered what our lives would’ve been like if Malcomb had answered my letters and decided to be in Dalton’s life. I might’ve pushed him to be involved or asked one of the brothers to do it, but I just couldn’t—not after being turned away so many times.
Call it pride or whatever you want, but I simply couldn’t continue to reach out.
I thought it was the right thing for both of us.