Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 83109 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83109 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
“Are you asking me or telling me?”
“Telling. But hopefully you’ll be good with that plan.”
I squinted at Simon as he put the car into drive. “Did you have something to do with that?”
“What?”
“Brendan’s friend just conveniently invited him for a sleepover, and now we are going to have the house alone to ourselves? I saw you and Brendan whispering when you kicked my and Kenny’s butts in air hockey.”
We’d just dropped the boys off at Kenny’s and were heading to my house. After the bomb that Simon dropped on me that he wasn’t taking the job in England, my one glass of wine had turned into two. It actually worked to loosen me up, and the four of us had a great time playing air hockey. Not to mention, Simon had rolled up his shirtsleeves, and every time he whacked the puck, the muscles in his forearm flexed. So, yeah, wine and air hockey did the trick. But now that it was just the two of us about to be alone in my house, I was nervous. So nervous.
“I had nothing to do with that invitation. Everything is falling into place just as Pokémon said it would.”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
Inside the house, my nervousness escalated. When Simon unlocked the door and put his hand on my hip to usher me inside, I nearly leaped out of my skin.
“You’re jumpy.”
“You touched a ticklish spot,” I lied.
“I’ll have to remember that.”
Simon set the keys on the kitchen counter, and I went right to the refrigerator for more anti-nerve serum. “Thank you for driving us home. Would you like a glass of wine now?”
“Sure.”
I poured us each a glass and invited Simon to sit in the living room. As we entered, I flicked on the light. Simon flicked it off right behind me. “What are you doing?” I asked.
“It’s a full moon. The room is lit enough because you have the blinds open.”
He was right. The lighting streaming in from outside was beautiful. It gave off a soft glow that was peaceful and relaxing. Together we sat on the couch.
I shut my eyes and tried to let it all sink in—the wine, the moon, the late hour—hoping I’d find my calm. But when I opened my eyes again, Simon was staring at me in the most intense way. “What? You’re making me nervous with how serious you look right now.”
“Sorry.” He brought his wine to his lips and proceeded to down the entire glass in one long chug.
“Thirsty?” I laughed nervously.
Simon set his glass on the table and then took mine from my hand, placing it down next to his.
“What if I wanted to chug mine like you just did yours?”
“You can do that after I’m done. Hell, I’ll down another one and join you after I spit out what I need to say.”
Simon shifted and turned to face me head-on. He took both of my hands into his, and I realized he looked as nervous as I felt. Once our gazes were locked, he cleared his throat and took a deep breath before starting. “I can’t take the job in Leeds or anywhere else because I can’t leave you. I think if I even tried, gravity would pull me right back.” He paused, and his voice turned soft. “The first time I saw you, I felt it and it scared me. When I moved in and realized it was you again, I thought it had to be a big coincidence, and I was afraid to get to know you. When I kissed you, it scared the living shit out of me, and I wanted to pull away. But when I tried, I realized I couldn’t, and that scared me even more. Then I went back to England and thought about what my life would be like without you in it, and I finally realized that I was more afraid of losing you than I was of finding you. I love you, Bridget. So much that it scared me and made me want to run three-thousand miles away. But I can’t run anymore because I need you more than I’m afraid of everything else that comes with loving you.”
My heart was thundering in my chest so hard that it actually made me a little nervous for my health. A sheen of cold sweat formed on my neck, my forehead, my palms. Simon’s nerves must have been shot waiting for me to respond. He squeezed my hands. “Bridget…say something.”
I swallowed a lump of tears in my throat and tasted salt. “I don’t know what to say.”
His smile was nervous. “How about, Simon – I’m madly in love with you, too. Now get that big rig up and running and drive it into my naughty garage.”
I scrunched up my nose.
“No? Not working for you, huh? Okay. How about, Simon – my love for you is brighter than all the stars in the sky. Now let’s go put some sour cream on the big burrito.”