Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 104151 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104151 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
I winced. The first tear landed between my feet, and then the next few hit my socks, disappearing into the white cotton. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“I’m not asking for an apology. I know you’re sorry. It’s been on your face all night. I’m asking what you were thinking?”
“I was just taking the edge off.”
“Christ,” he grumbled. “The edge off what? You’re eighteen. You have a home and food on the table. You have a family who loves you. A job. Friends. You have me and Josh. Please, please tell me what fucking edge you’re taking off?”
I wiped my tears and sniffled. “It’s us. I’m tired of keeping us a secret.”
“I can’t do this tonight. You’re all over the goddamn place. One minute, you’re dying to tell everyone, the next you’re not. Just fucking tell them.” He rubbed his temples.
“I can’t,” I whispered.
“Whatever. Then I’ll tell them. Just not tonight. I need you to just go.”
I shook my head. “You can’t.”
“Why not?”
My head continued to shake. “It’s too much.”
“Too much what?”
I lifted my gaze, eyes narrowed. “You don’t understand. But it’s just more than they can deal with.”
He studied me for several seconds before sighing. “Fine. But you can’t come to my house intoxicated. Do you understand me?”
I nodded.
“In fact, just stop drinking. You’re eighteen, and—”
“Gah!” I clenched my hands into tight fists. “I know! I’m eighteen. I know my age. Everyone knows my age. Would you stop starting every sentence with my age? If it’s such a big deal to you then break up with me. Go be with someone whose age you’re not embarrassed about.”
“I’m bringing up your age because it’s relevant to our conversation about your drinking.”
“Welp,” I said, holding my hands out to the side, “I’m done drinking. I’m not smoking. No drugs. I won’t even vote in the presidential election next year if it makes you happy and takes the burden off bringing up my age in every single conversation. Happy?”
Kyle frowned. “My son’s upstairs with burns all down his arm. Do you think I’m happy?”
Everything hurt, and everything was my fault.
I pushed off the counter and marched to the door, shoving my feet into my sneakers.
“Eve …”
I hurried out the door, pounding my feet along the wood planks, down the stairs and toward the hill.
“Eve?” He followed me.
I picked up my pace.
“Stop, Eve! My fucking arm hurts. I’m not running after you.”
I didn’t want him to run after me. I just wanted to go home and be alone with my feelings and as many sad songs as I could find on the radio.
“Dammit!” he grumbled.
I could hear his footsteps getting closer. He was running.
“Stop!” I yelled when he hooked his fingers into the waist of my jeans. I swung around, arms flailing to get him to let go of me.
“Ouch! Fuck!” He hugged his slinged arm and buckled at the waist after I accidentally hit it.
“I’m sorry,” I mumbled behind the hand I cupped at my mouth. “I’m so sorry.”
“You’re so stubborn and infuriating,” he seethed while standing straight.
Just as I opened my mouth to protest what was probably the truth, he grabbed the back of my head with his right hand, my hair gripped in his fist, and he smashed his mouth to mine.
It was a long kiss. Hard and punishing.
Considering everyone called me stubborn, I melted at his feet every time. I loved his hand in my hair, his tongue in my mouth, and the way he stepped so close to me that his leg wedged between mine.
He ended the kiss as abruptly as it started. “Now you can go home and be mad,” he said, turning one-eighty and making his way up the hill to his house.
After I caught my breath, I sprinted home to call Erin and tell her everything.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
PATRICK SWAYZE, “SHE’S LIKE THE WIND”
Eve
I wasn’t shocked when Kyle and Josh weren’t at church the following morning, but Erin wasn’t there either. I needed her more than I had ever needed my best friend. After church, Gabby and I picked up Grandma Bonnie for dinner, and I couldn’t tell her, either, because I wasn’t ready for Gabby to know about Josh’s burns.
“Hey,” I said to Kyle and Josh sitting on the sofa while Mom and Gabby set the table for dinner. I didn’t expect to see them since they hadn’t been at church.
They were quite the pair: Kyle with his sling (because of my dad) and Josh with his arm bandaged (because of me). Did they tell my parents that I was responsible for Josh’s injury?
Kyle smiled.
“Eve, you didn’t mention the pizza accident,” Mom said, placing the pot roast in the center of the table.
“Uh …” My eyes ping-ponged between Kyle and my mom.
“I told her how I accidentally bumped you, which made you bump into Josh, and it was all just an unfortunate accident,” Kyle said.