Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 124029 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 620(@200wpm)___ 496(@250wpm)___ 413(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124029 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 620(@200wpm)___ 496(@250wpm)___ 413(@300wpm)
“Where’s my thank you? I’m the one who put her ass on the first flight from DC to Austin,” West grumbles behind her back, and I break my millionth hug with Karlie to jump him, too, peppering his face with wet kisses.
“Sorry! Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
“Gratitude is best delivered through actions.”
I roll my eyes and pat his chest. “You’ll be rewarded later on tonight.”
“That’s more like it.” East gives West a fist-bump.
Lilian and I exchange exasperated looks and laugh. My boyfriend takes my hand, and we all pour out to the beautiful summer night, strolling toward a local bar. I notice West’s steps are particularly slow. Karlie is marching briskly next to Easton and Lilian, a few good feet away from us. We’re lagging way behind.
“What’s up with them?” I laugh nervously. “They’re jogging, and we’re snailing behind.”
“It’s called giving people space.” West’s voice is tight, strained. It is not the same West I’ve known for the past three years. The happy-go-lucky guy I had become accustomed to. The man he used to be before what happened to Aubrey. This guy was back as soon as we got back together—for real this time—and I fell even harder for him.
“We need space?” I asked. “Is this about where we’re going to be this Christmas? Because I already told you, I’m fine with spending Christmas with your family and New Year’s with Grams.”
That’s what we’ve been doing the past couple years. Grams’ cognitive situation has deteriorated over the years, to a point where she doesn’t remember me at all. But she is as comfortable as she can be, and I still make it a point to visit her weekly. It’s not ideal, but that is something I learned to live with—doing my best for someone, even when the situation is less than perfect.
Unfortunately, it makes no difference to Grams where I spend my Christmases, but I still do my best to give her company, to talk to her, to hold her hand.
“It’s not about Christmas.” West shakes his head. “I have something to tell you.”
“Okay.”
“I’ve been seeing someone else.”
I stop walking, stare him straight in the eye. I don’t believe it. It’s not that I refuse to believe it, I simply don’t. For all his faults, he is the most loyal man I’ve ever met in my life. Tilting my head to the side, I study him.
“That true?”
“Afraid so.”
“What’s she like?” I humor him. I like that jealousy is not a thing between us anymore. I’d spent the first six months of our relationship hysterical over him running away with Tess or Melanie, when really, the only woman to drive him nuts was me. Our friends have now turned a corner on the street, and are away from earshot.
“She’s great. Very attentive, smart, intelligent …” he continues, watching my face for signs of annoyance. He finds none. “But I broke it off after I got what I wanted from her.”
“Which is?” I cock an eyebrow.
He drops on one knee and produces something from his pocket. A square little box, popping it open in front of me. I’m aware that people around us have stopped dead in their tracks to watch on curiously.
“She is a jeweler, and she helped me make this. I hope you like it.”
I peer into the box. It’s a ring.
Not just any ring.
A flame ring.
A flame ring that’s completely different to the one my mother had left behind. This one is made out of pure white gold and has a twinkling ruby in the center. I finger it, my breath catching in my throat. It’s exquisite. Even more impressive—it is so me.
“I … this is …”
West takes it out and slides it onto my ring finger.
“Three years ago, I walked into a college theater and watched as you smashed your debut role. Now you’re playing with the big boys and girls, and you know what? I had no doubt you would. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, because everything that came before you was a fucking waste. You don’t complete me, Grace Shaw. You create a better me.” He draws a quick breath, shaking his head. “Fucking hell, that’s my cliché quota for the century. If it makes it any better, I thought about every single one of those things that I said. I didn’t check Pinterest once for inspiration like East suggested.”
“Eat shit, St. Claire. Pinterest’s got some rad ideas!” I hear Easton yell from the corner of the street, behind a red-bricked building. I’m giggling and hiccupping from excitement now. They’re all huddled around the corner, waiting for my answer.
“What do you say, Tex? Wanna walk through fire together?”
I nod, tugging at his hand to make him stand up.
“Can’t think of anyone better to spend the rest of my life with.”