Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 105846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
It was my thing. And over the years, it had become one of the very few things I did for myself.
That I chose for myself.
It’s no wonder, as I try to find my way again inside a town the size of a sardine can, that I’m internally restless for more things like that. Mundane, sure, but equally important.
That’s not the only reason you’re restless.
Okay, fine. What happened Friday night at The Country Club might also be a driving force for my need to run. There’s nothing like some arguing turned slapping turned hot-and-heavy kissing with your new boss to make any woman feel discombobulated.
And hot-and-heavy kissing it was. Pretty sure you were—
No. No. No. Not going there.
Needless to say, I haven’t seen Bennett since shit went down, but my stupid brain hasn’t given me a break from constantly thinking about it.
Hell, I couldn’t even bring myself to hang around the bar after I saw Bennett leave. I didn’t follow through with my promise to Tad to do another karaoke song. Didn’t even stay to watch him give his best rendition of “Baby Got Back.” My head was spinning too fast with thoughts of Bennett—and the implications of that insane moment—to do anything but go home.
And now, before heading off to work another day at a job I’m hoping I still have, I’ve decided to get back to my roots and go for a run. Well, a walk-jog, if you will. Surely it will help with the nervous energy that has rooted inside my belly since Friday night.
Fingers and toes crossed, this will give me the endorphin boost I need to survive whatever is going to happen when I show up to his house this morning.
Now, Red Bridge doesn’t have a Central Park, but there is a quaint hiking trail that runs along the outside of the town. Apparently, the loop is about four miles, but you can easily detour straight back into the center of town without any issues. At least, that’s what the map at the start of the trail leads you to believe.
I pause at the entrance and snort when I note the actual name of the trail—Happy Trail. As in, this name could go two ways. Either a serious sexual innuendo or completely innocent to the point of naïve that no one picked up on the double entendre.
In this town, the motivation is a toss-up.
When my phone starts ringing inside the side pocket of my leggings, I pull it out to find Incoming Call Lillian flashing on the screen.
“Hey, stranger,” I answer by the second ring, and I’m surprised that my cell service appears intact.
“I feel like it’s been forever since I’ve talked to you.” Lillian’s voice accuses gently, and I instantly miss her.
I don’t miss my life in New York. I don’t miss the fake friends I acquired because of my relationship with Thomas. I don’t miss constantly having to appease my mother by going to functions I didn’t care about or doing things because they made her happy. And I certainly don’t miss my ex.
But I do miss Lillian. We haven’t been able to talk much since I’ve been here, but I’ve managed to keep her updated on most of the highlights.
“I know,” I reply and decide to utilize the time to stretch out my muscles. “I’m sorry I’ve been so busy lately, but I got a job.” The first stretch I attempt is a hamstring stretch on my right thigh. It burns as much as my fear of losing said job because I acted like a violent-horny fool Friday night.
“A job, huh? Not going to lie, I’m happy for you, but I’m also kind of disappointed,” she answers on a little laugh. “Obviously, I want the best for you, but there was a part of me that hoped you’d have to come back to New York.”
“You and I both know that’s not an option.”
“Yeah, well, a girl who misses her bestie can dream, you know?”
One thing I’ve always loved about Lillian is that she’s amusing to watch in conversation because she’s so theatrical. I can picture her now, flashing some sort of jazz hand or drawing a bubble above her head with a finger.
“I know, Lil. I’m sorry, but I can’t come back. Eleanor already called my sister’s coffee shop looking for me, and that freaked me out enough.”
“I can’t believe she has the balls she does, but she’s been trying to track me down too.”
“Eleanor has never been lacking in ego.” I spread my legs and lean forward to touch my toes. “And she knows about Thomas coming to Red Bridge, so she’s going to be a dog with a bone until she gets what she wants.”
“Oh shit. Now the demon-dials are making more sense.”
“Yeah.” A sad exhale of air leaves my lungs as I stand upright again. “Have you talked to her?”