Total pages in book: 190
Estimated words: 185785 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 929(@200wpm)___ 743(@250wpm)___ 619(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 185785 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 929(@200wpm)___ 743(@250wpm)___ 619(@300wpm)
And then when he backed up and looked into my eyes with those bright emerald eyes of his? And then he licked his lips like he was savoring the taste of me.
I’m in so much trouble.
It’s too soon for this. Way too soon.
It was beyond sweet that he stayed all day, that he was trying to be there for me, and I couldn’t quite wrap my brain around why he wanted to do it when my family would think he’s my new boyfriend. It’s like he wants them to think that.
And why he kissed me the instant we were outside the hospital like he wouldn’t be able to wait one more minute to do it.
I am still reeling.
Grampa is so stubborn. When Grandma died, he didn’t want to sell the house and move in with anyone. He didn’t want anybody to move in with him. Didn’t want to move into a senior’s building where he didn’t have so much upkeep. He insisted on continuing to cut his own lawn, shovel his own snow, and live in his big two storey three-bedroom house. I’m surprised it was my brother on that roof and not him, and if it were him – God, he could’ve fallen.
Ray didn’t like how Grampa talked to him, how Grampa rolled his eyes or scoffed whenever Ray talked, so he never wanted to go over there. My grandfather didn’t really like any boyfriends me or my cousin Colly brought around. The same with my other cousin, Sheila, who’s now married and living in Alaska. No one was good enough for his granddaughters. Not even Sheila’s guy who is a mountain man, all-man, good to her, respectful to all of us, and just … solid. Grampa still gave him side-eye whenever they visited.
Ray got bitchy about me going over without him and never wanted to go with me, so, I really didn’t. I hadn’t seen my grandfather for almost two months before today, and the way his grouchiness melted at seeing me when I went into his room today? I have to be more present for him. For my whole family.
And now it’s getting to that point… that point where he needs help. When I think about the fact that I could’ve lost him today? When I think about that it hits how unpredictable, how short life is.
I can’t stop beating myself up for going so long without seeing my grandfather. This is my wakeup call.
Does that mean I should go for it and see what happens here with Killian because life is so short and unpredictable?
Or am I again letting a hot guy cloud my judgement, which will hurt my family and ultimately me.
Everything inside me is telling me to wait before I leap into anything resembling a relationship. And maybe that’s because Killian is too perfect – I’d hate to screw it up by having him be a rebound.
I hear Debbie’s voice in my head telling me to get back on the horse with someone who is hung like a horse, who knows what he’s doing, who gets 5-star reviews for what he knows how to do.
But I can’t think about this now.
What a day!
I didn’t want Killian there. Didn’t want him to see us all vulnerable. Don’t want them to think I have a new boyfriend.
Is this Killian passing the time because he’s using me to get back at Ray for Ray being a dink and screwing him over for money? The minute that thought occurs, I shove it away, feeling bad about it even because I know he’s been trying to help me, but I also remember what Debbie said at lunch that day about how he told her he’d never get with her because of her being an ex of a friend of his. Not that Ray and Killian were really friends.
It’s still weird that Killian even came to my place with Ray that night if they weren’t really friends.
I’m thinking about the oddness of this when we get out of the elevator, me carrying the bag of food and him carrying the tray of milkshakes.
There’s a woman leaned against Killian’s door.
A woman who might very well be a supermodel.
She brightens when she sees him, but her smile instantly dims as she takes in that he’s not alone. She looks like she’s posed for a magazine shoot, standing there in a long trench coat, one leg cocked, posing with the sole of her stiletto against his door. Both of her palms are flat against the door. On the ground beside her is a satchel - an overnight bag maybe, a bottle of booze, and a sleek black hat-sized box with a bow on top.
“Kenya. What the fuck?” he growls.
He looks angry.
Her lower lip quivers as she shrugs. “I guess this is a bad time.”