Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 100713 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100713 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
She laughed and straightened herself out. “A little.”
As I got close to her, déjà vu hit me hard—the dappled sunlight on her dark hair, the breeze rustling the maple leaves above our heads, the acceleration of my heart. “You know what this reminds me of?”
Her green eyes sparkled. “The day you kissed me?”
I nodded. “I thought I was going to die.”
That made her laugh. “If you kissed me?”
“If I didn’t.”
Smiling softly, she tipped her head against one rope. “I’m sorry I didn’t see things more clearly back then.”
I shrugged. “We were young. I’m not sure I saw things clearly either. I just acted on impulse.”
“But maybe if I hadn’t been so scared, we could have . . . I don’t know. Had more time together. Had more of a chance.”
Her words made me sad, but they weren’t wrong. No matter how good this felt with her, it wasn’t like we really had a chance. It was too late.
“Want to give me a push?” she asked.
“Sure.” Moving behind her, I grabbed the ropes, pulled her back toward me, and let her go. Each time she came back, I put my hands on her back and gave her a gentle push. Until one time, instead of pushing her, I caught her around the waist and held on.
She giggled. “Hey! The ride stopped. What happened?”
“I don’t know. It was another impulse, I guess.” Carefully, I lowered the swing until her sneakers were on the ground.
Rising to her feet, she turned to face me and wrapped her arms around my neck. “An impulse to kiss me again?”
“An impulse to catch hold of you,” I told her, “and not let go.”
“Don’t.” A whisper, soft but fierce. “Don’t.”
That night after practice, the guys and I hit the pub for a couple beers. Afterward, Moretti and I walked to the parking lot together.
“I’ve got a check for Maddie,” he said. “We just need to set up a time for signing the paperwork.”
“Sounds good.”
“Maybe she could come by the office tomorrow?”
“Probably. Have Bianca text her.” I chuckled. “She’ll probably have my dad with her. He’s like her shadow these days.”
“Oh yeah? That must be helpful.”
“It’s beyond helpful. I don’t know what I’m going to do when she leaves.”
“So ask her to stay,” he said easily.
I frowned. “I can’t do that.”
“Sure, you can.”
“She’s got a job in Ohio,” I told him. “She’s got a house. Elliott’s dad is there. She’s not going to move up here just to keep my dad out of trouble.”
Moretti laughed. “You’re right—she’s not. She’s going to do it for you, asshole.”
“I don’t want her to do it for me,” I said, scowling at my feet as we walked.
“Why not?”
“Because then I’m under pressure.”
“Pressure to . . .” he prompted.
“To be worth the upheaval to her life. To Elliott’s life.”
“You don’t think you are?”
I didn’t answer right away. “What if she moved back here and things fell apart?”
Moretti shrugged. “I guess you guys would have to decide if that’s a risk worth taking.”
“It’s not. I can already tell you it’s not.”
“So you’d rather have her living five, six hours away? Getting together once a month or something? Probably less? Letting it die out that way? Because you know that’s what would happen,” he argued, “especially with how much you work and the time you spend taking care of your dad.”
“At least she wouldn’t end up hating me.”
“Dude, that is a fucking lame-ass excuse for not even trying.”
I struggled with a comeback, because I knew he was right. Instead, I made up a different lame-ass excuse. “She might not even want to try. I’d hate to put her on the spot.”
Moretti stopped walking and faced me. “Listen. I’ve known you a long time, I’ve seen you two together, and I think you’re wrong about this. If you want her in your life, tell her. If she says no, fuck it.” He shrugged. “At least you tried. But you’ve spent a lot of years waiting for this. And I’ll say to you what I said to Cole when he was first into Cheyenne—don’t lie, don’t say shit you don’t mean, just tell her the truth.”
“The truth, huh?”
“Yeah. Women love it when you get all honest and vulnerable and shit.”
I grimaced. “Vulnerability doesn’t sound like my thing.”
He rolled his eyes. “It doesn’t sound like any man’s thing. But you have to do it.” He pointed a finger at me. “And don’t fuck this up, or you’re going to be ninety years old wishing you hadn’t chickened out at thirty-three, and I’ll be there to say I told you so.”
Swallowing hard, I nodded. “I’ll give it some thought.”
That night I struggled to sleep, even with her right next to me. After gently waking her so she could tiptoe back to her own room, I gave up. Throwing on some clothes, I headed out by myself to do the chores a little earlier than usual.