Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 82747 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82747 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
"He only wants to fuck me," I say as I lift my eyes to hers.
"I don't think that's the case," she says, her tone soft as if she's doing her best to convince me to change my mind about something, as if I have any control over how someone else feels.
"I don't end up with the prince," I say as I lean to the side and let my head fall to the pillow.
"How do you know?"
I give her a wry smile, pulling in a deep breath.
"I just know."
Sadness coats her face, but she doesn't argue any further with me.
"You're going to hate yourself for choosing to sleep on that couch."
"The pillow smells nice and clean," I say, pulling the blanket to my nose and drawing in a deep breath. "The blanket, too."
"I owe that to those sachets I bought at the Christmas fair last month," she explains. "I felt like I was swindled into buying them because the money was going toward gifts for Claire's daughter, but it really was a great purchase."
"I donated a little money rather than buying something I wouldn't use," I explain, grateful she's willing to change the subject after saying her piece rather than harping on me about it.
"You know me," she says as her grin grows wider. "I want something for my money."
I chew the inside of my cheek as I consider the ramifications of what I want to get off my chest. If I say them out loud, I can't take them back. But there's so much eating away at me, it's starting to feel like acid in my gut.
"Do you remember that summer you spent helping your grandmother before she passed away?"
Sage nods, a soft, sad smile on her face.
"I told you that summer about the party I was brave enough to go to."
"And the seven minutes in heaven," she says, her dimples popping proudly when her smile grows wider.
Sage and I were friends back then, but we weren't best friends. I kept a lot of stuff close to my chest because I never knew who I could trust and who I would tell things only for them to go behind my back and make fun of me. Despite our town being small, some of the kids were still very mean, mostly out of boredom, I think.
"Wait," she says, her head tilting as if things are starting to fall into place. "It was Mac?"
I dip my head. "It was Mac. I had the biggest crush on him back then, and after that kiss, I just knew I was going to marry the guy."
"If I recall, you said it was more than a kiss."
My cheeks heat. "He tried to slip his hand up my shirt, and I stopped him. I was terrified. That kiss was as far as I'd ever gone, and it was just moving way too fast."
My heart pounds in my chest recalling that first kiss we shared, and it's very similar to the way it pounds when I've been in his arms, being a lot more intimate than I let things get that day in the closet.
"He asked me not to tell anyone," I confess. "It seemed like no big deal at the time, but now that I think about it, I imagine he didn't want anyone to know what happened."
"Boys are idiots," Sage says.
I huff a humorless laugh before continuing. "I was so enamored by him, I think I would’ve done whatever he said. I thought it could be romantic. We could be a secret, and even if he didn't want to tell anyone about us, having any part of him was enough."
"Oh, Riley," Sage says, her tone full of pity and empathy.
"Only when I got back to school in the fall, he never looked at me twice. It was as if it never happened. I was heartbroken. That same heartbroken girl was the same one who got giddy at the idea of hooking up with him that night at the bar."
"You deserve better," she says.
"I do," I quickly agree.
"Has he been mean to you? Was he mean to you back then when you confronted him about it?"
"Confronted him? Do you even know me? I never approached him."
Her lips form a flat line. "That tracks."
"He told me this morning that we need to talk, so I imagine it's going to be more of the same. Probably that we agreed to this sex-only thing, and then I showed up at his house with a smile and a casserole like we're some happy couple. He wants to talk it out, and I feel like it's a waste of time. I don't need him to sit me down like a toddler and explain what this is, but I'm not going to be his toy any longer either."
"What happened with the whole possessive claiming thing?"