Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 84000 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84000 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
“What about people who do know you well? Your friends in there.” She nods toward the private dining room. “What don’t they know about you?” She’s trying to mask her questions behind a singsong tone and a smile, but she’s digging furiously for something.
“I don’t deliberately keep things from…” I trail off, hearing the lie before I have a chance to say it. My feelings for Sophia—no one knows about those. “I might be careful about when I tell them some stuff, but I don’t deliberately hide things from my closest friends, no.”
She pulls in a juddering breath, then takes the tequila from me. Our fingers brush and our gazes lock. She looks away as she downs the rest of her glass.
“What about you?” I ask. “Do you keep secrets?”
She looks at me, a flare of panic in her eyes. “Not usually.”
“But sometimes you do?” I ask. What secrets is she keeping right now?
“Like you said. It’s about timing. But no, I don’t keep secrets from my closest friends. From my family.” It feels like she has more to say, so I keep quiet. “Sometimes I wonder what normal is. Is it normal to keep secrets? Is it normal to tell your best friend everything? Maybe I’m the asshole, you know? Maybe everyone else’s normal is different. Don’t we all go around thinking we’re normal, and if people aren’t like us, they’re not normal?”
“Hmm,” I say. She’s saying nothing and far too much at the same time. “Normal is an interesting word. Everyone is different.”
She sighs. “I guess. But there are parameters of normal. Like, I don’t care if you’re on the subway and you’re dressed in Chanel or as a hot dog. But if you’re naked, I’ve got a problem with that.”
“Yeah, naked on the subway doesn’t sound like a good life choice.”
She shivers. “So gross—for the people having to see you, but also, can you imagine sitting on a seat? Stop. I can’t think about it.”
I smile. I like listening to her. I like hearing how her brain works.
She takes my glass from me, letting her fingers linger a second when they meet mine. My heart rate trips at the feel of her skin against mine.
“You’re right, normal is a provocative word. I guess I just want to know what most other people do. Like most people tell lies—to protect others, or themselves.”
“But you’re not like most people.” I want to say more. I want to tell her she’s like no other woman I’ve ever met. That she’s beautiful and open and has an intensity about her that makes me sit up and want to understand her. That when I’m with her, I want more. I want to spend every moment with her. I want to study her like a work of art. I want to touch her, feel her. I want to know her.
She blushes at my words. If only she knew what I wasn’t saying. If only she knew what I wanted to say. Am I keeping secrets from her?
It’s all about timing.
“Do you think most people keep secrets? Like, big secrets? From people who are close to them?”
I remember what she said before. About Cincinnati being revelatory. “What did you find out in Cincinnati?” I ask.
Her eyes widen, panic flashing in her gaze. “We should go back.” She takes a swig of my whisky.
“You can talk to me, you know?”
She nods slowly. As silence stretches out between us, she seems to relax inside of it. “I know I can.”
Her words fill me up. I want her to talk to me, to tell me what she’s thinking. I want to know about the secret she discovered, and who kept it from her.
She turns and I catch her arm. She snaps her head back.
“I like talking to you,” I say.
“I like talking to you,” she says. “Very much.”
I want to keep her here. Talking to me. Sharing her secrets. With me.
FIVE
Sophia
I shove my feet into my sneakers and hook my crossbody bag over my head. Efa has made all the arrangements for today and has kept the details a secret, which I hate. Her only direction was to wear comfortable shoes. I just hope there’s not a paddleboat involved. Nothing good ever happens on a paddleboat. I don’t have many lines in the sand, but paddling on water is one of them. Also, I don’t want to get dirty, or be in a situation where I might fall. Apart from that, I’m very relaxed about what we’re doing today.
I turn in front of the full-length mirror and look over my shoulder at my ass in my jeans, then roll my eyes at myself. Why do I care what my ass looks like? Who am I trying to impress? I don’t know how I can even think about a man without wanting to set him on fire at the moment, but somehow, instead of making me panic or question him, Worth makes me feel like I’m the center of the universe. He’s so calming. So solid.