Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 65683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 328(@200wpm)___ 263(@250wpm)___ 219(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 328(@200wpm)___ 263(@250wpm)___ 219(@300wpm)
“You wish.” He scoffed. “I’ll settle for that smile. You know, I was basically born and raised on this beach,” he disclosed, catching me off guard.
He didn’t seem like the type to open up to people, especially someone he only just met a week ago.
“This beach holds many fond memories for me, but I won't pretend this isn’t quickly becoming another one.”
He smiled, still not meeting my eyes. His smile was real, though. It held so many secrets I wanted to uncover and so many truths I probably couldn’t digest.
“I love this beach, but I fucking hate this town. It’s filled with pretentious, rich pricks who think they’re better than you. My parents being one of them. Don’t get me wrong, I love them, but sometimes I wish they cared about something other than status and money. It’s so exhausting yet addicting at the same time, having all the power but knowing that it could get taken from you at any moment. I swear they’re on constant anti-anxiety meds all because of this place.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Why not?”
I didn’t know how to reply, so I remained quiet.
He just kept confessing like he hadn’t had a family therapist for the past few years. “I’ve played football my entire life and been called a prodigy since the first time I threw a ball. Still, I don’t think it will ever be good enough for my father.”
There was so much more to him than met the eye.
“Where are you—”
“No, Tru.” He finally turned to look at me. His eyes were so intense I almost choked. “Your turn.”
I stared into the gaze of the guy who was a walking paradox of contradictions. I saw a side to him that felt like he didn’t show anyone, and I had no idea why.
All I knew was that I liked it.
I wanted more.
I needed more.
I was greedy for it.
Something deep inside told me I could trust him. I was the first to break eye contact. Looking back toward the ocean, I tried to reel in my emotions that seemed to be taking over, contemplating if I was really going to do this.
If I was really going to let him in.
He was just a stranger.
I could still feel his gaze on the side of my face, burning a hole into my skin, and a part of me knew he sensed that.
The effect he had on me.
Taking a deep breath, I opened my mouth and murmured, “I’ve never met my parents.” My eyebrows rose, surprised by my revelation. I finally admitted my truth out loud.
“Who are you living with?”
“My fosters.”
He jerked back, his face full of shock.
Whatever. I was used to people not understanding, so I just kept confessing. “I’ve moved from one place to the next ever since I could remember, but these are the first fosters who have been loaded. I guess they can’t have kids or something. The truth is, they’re probably just using me to appeal to their rich friends. If that makes any sense.”
I mentally checked off the whole “we’re doing it to save the children” mark on my bingo card.
He nodded.
“I didn’t really have time to process the severity of the situation or this world that I was suddenly thrown into where money wasn’t an issue. They even gave me my own bank card, saying I needed to use it for whatever I wanted. I’ve lived with them for the past year, and I still feel as lost with them as I did with my first family.” I left out the guilt part—the guilt I felt that my friends in foster care didn’t have this opportunity when I did.
“I see.”
“Do you?”
He tugged on the end of my hair. It was painfully sweet. “I see you.”
“This doesn’t bother you?”
“Why would it bother me?” He frowned.
My confession felt heavy and way too sad to say out loud, but I wanted to tell him. “I’m basically a charity case.”
“So.” He grinned and tipped my chin toward him. “You’re Cinderella?”
I chuckled. I couldn’t help it. He totally got me without even trying.
“I’ve never told anyone this.” I paused, needing a second to gather my thoughts and muster the courage to stay with him.
His stare never faltered. He just sat there patiently listening to every word, never interrupting me. I instantly looked down when I felt him gently place his hand on top of mine in the sand. It was a soothing gesture to reassure me. Maybe to show me he cared.
A little part of me…
Soared for the first time in months.
CHAPTER 10
TRU
Ifelt a real connection with another human being. With a guy who didn’t even know me. My eyes were fixated on his hand that never left mine. In the dark, our hands were one, extensions of each other.
His rough, calloused fingers were so comfortable resting over mine that I wanted to turn my hand over to feel him. When he reached over and lightly grazed the side of my cheek with his other hand, my heart fluttered, and my stomach dropped.