Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 114011 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 570(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114011 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 570(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
I think.
What worries me are the dreams that I have when I don’t make an effort to block them. They come both in the day and night, visions of curling up against Cole in bed or making him dinner or hanging out with him and Ethan . . . like a family.
Don’t.
“What have you been up to over there?” Val asks.
“Oh, nothing.”
“You’re lying.” She laughs. “I’m trying to be a good friend and not push you to talk about things that you don’t want to, but . . . push, push. Tell me.”
A slow smile breaks across my face. “It’s not much. Just that Ethan and I went to the Becks’ house for dinner on Sunday—”
“You did what?”
I laugh.
“It’s Tuesday, Palmer, and you’re just telling me this? How do you even call yourself my best friend?” She huffs. “Oh, my gosh. Tell me everything.”
My cheeks flush. “There’s nothing to tell.”
“That’s it. I’m getting a new best friend that will let me live through her. That will share the sordid details of her life with me like a true ride or die.”
I watch as Fred, the parts runner, approaches his car. He waves at me with a puzzled look, probably wondering why I’m just sitting in the parking lot. I shrug. He laughs.
“Cole invited Ethan and I over for dinner with his family. It was really nice,” I say. “Then his parents took Ethan hiking, and Cole and I . . . you know . . .”
“You slept with him, didn’t you?”
“Maybe.”
She squeals. “I’m bringing wine over tonight, and you’re telling me all the things. If you get into those kinds of details now, I’ll get all flustered, and I have to go back into work.”
I laugh.
“So, what’s this mean?” she asks.
Her question is innocent. She means nothing by it, and if she had an inkling that her inquiry would throw me, she wouldn’t have asked. If I get this far into things with a man, it usually means there’s something there to build off. So it’s a fair question.
But this time? There’s nowhere to go from here.
My stomach wobbles. “It doesn’t mean anything.”
Despite my best attempt to keep my voice nonchalant, even I can hear the hollowness in the words.
“Oh,” she says. “I just thought maybe . . . well, I don’t know what I thought. You’ve just been saying that you didn’t want to jump into things, and he . . .”
Yeah. I get it. This is stupid.
“I understand,” I say, my spirits sinking. “I mean, you’re right. This is going to be over before it really even starts.”
“That’s not necessarily a bad thing.”
I strum my fingers against the steering wheel. My lips part for me to fall into old habits—to think the worst and start backtracking. But something stops me.
“No, it’s not.” My eyebrows rise. Even I wasn’t expecting to say that. “I’m not going to lie. I like him.”
The words burn as they slide out of my mouth. Admitting that—putting it into the universe—feels like I’m just asking for trouble. But how can I be in trouble if I’m being honest? I can’t be duped if I see it for what it is, right?
“If Cole was a regular guy and worked at the Piggly Wiggly or the coal mine, I’d absolutely give him a shot,” I say. “But he’s not that kind of guy. So I have to take it for what it is, and right now, it’s making me happy.”
“That’s great, Palm.”
“I’m just going to keep a life jacket on, you know? Don’t jump in too deep.”
She claps, making me roll my eyes.
“Stop it,” I say, shushing her.
“I like it. I like this Palmer. You go, girl.”
“No one says that anymore.”
“I just did. Besides, this is something worth celebrating.”
“Why is that?”
She sighs. “Because you’re living for you. You saw something you wanted and you went after it. You got it. You screwed it, apparently, and—”
“Stop!” I laugh. “Please. Stop.”
“Fine. But I’ll be over around nine, and you can tell me everything.”
A grin kisses my lips. “I’ll talk to you later. Bye.”
“Bye.”
I relax in my seat and feel the sun on my face. This feels like me—the me I want to be. Fun. Hopeful. Exciting.
Like there’s something out there for me.
I close my eyes. My brain calms, the chaos in my head stills, and I find myself with one clear thought: if only this thing with Cole could be real.
You’re always safe with me.
Thinking about the words typed on the screen from him floods my body with a calmness that I’ve never known. But that’s the thing—Cole is all the things that I’ve always hoped to find in someone.
So of course he has to leave.
“No, you know that,” I say to myself, opening my eyes. “You’ve always known that.”
I’m looking down to reread his texts from last night when a new one pops up. It’s from Cole to the parent group text for the baseball team.