Total pages in book: 215
Estimated words: 199344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 997(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 199344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 997(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
Dropping my forehead to hers, I swallow hard, trying to gain some semblance of control over the wild emotions burning through my body. “You have to understand, Zo, I never planned on you being a memory. When you’re gone, and I have to say goodbye, it’s going to destroy me. I don’t know how I’m going to survive it, but I promise, when the time comes that I’m able to think back and remember our life together, when just the mention of your name doesn’t tear me to shreds, I’ll remember us just like this.”
Those beautiful green eyes fill with tears, and she pushes up on her toes again, kissing me gently before settling back into my arms. “Thank you,” she whispers just as the song comes to an end and shifts into something new. “Perfect” by Ed Sheeran.
As the opening lyrics sound through the park, I feel Zoey’s smile against my chest, and I realize just how well-suited this song is to this very moment. Every single lyric hits home. “I’m pretty sure this song was made for us.”
Zoey laughs and snuggles in closer to my chest. “You’re cheesy, Noah Ryan.”
“Says the one who gave me the puppy dog eyes saying that all she wanted was to dance with me on prom night,” I grin. “You knew what you were doing when you said that.”
Her grin stretches wider across her face, and I realize just how right I was. I was taking a shot in the dark when I said that, but her grin is nothing but a blunt confirmation. No one’s ever claimed that Miss Zoey James wasn’t sneaky as all hell. She’s a master manipulator in the best way, and I fucking adore that about her.
Two songs are all she can handle before we find ourselves sitting in the grass. Zoey sits between my legs, her back resting against my chest as my arm remains locked around her waist, holding her against me.
Her gaze lingers on the twinkling sky, watching the world pass us by. “Do you believe in reincarnation?” she asks.
I shake my head. “I don’t know,” I tell her. “I don’t think I’ve ever really thought that hard about it.”
“Yeah, me either,” she says. “But I’ve been wondering about it these past few weeks, like if it were true, what I’d want to come back as, and I can’t stop thinking that I’d want to come back as a bird.”
A smile pulls at my lips, and I drop my head, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. “Out of all the things you could potentially come back as, you choose a pigeon?”
“No,” she laughs, jamming her elbow back into my stomach. “Not a dirty pigeon. I want to be one of those real pretty ones with all the colors that can fly higher than any of the others,” she says, pausing a moment. “I don’t know, birds are just so . . . free. They soar through the skies, flying into the horizon without a care in the world.”
“Sounds perfect,” I murmur.
Zoey shrugs her shoulders. “I just think that after having to deal with everything that’s going on right now, a life soaring through the skies sounds like a dream,” she says, letting out a heavy breath. “What about you? What would you come back as?”
“I don’t know. Is this a world where you’re still alive, and I’m the one who’s gone?”
“How does that have anything to do with what you’re coming back as?”
“Answer the question, Zo. Are you alive or not?”
“Yes,” she laughs. “I’m alive.”
I grin, knowing she’d say that. “In that case, I’m coming back as your favorite pair of panties,” I tell her. “And it better be a thong, too. Otherwise, I’d be pissed.”
“Noah!” she screeches, ramming me in the ribs again, but all I can do is laugh as she pulls herself up and scrambles around until she’s straddled over my thighs, having to hoist the bottom of her gown up to give her space to move. She flings her arms around my neck, and I brace a hand at her waist, hating how much she sways.
It’s been a long day for her. I should get her home soon.
“You’re trouble, you know that, right?” she says, her eyes sparkling with silent laughter.
I grin wide. “Not as much trouble as you.”
Zoey rolls her eyes and leans into me, resting her head against my shoulder as I hold us both up. “Noah?” she questions, her voice barely a whisper. “Can I ask you something?”
“What’s up, Zo?”
“How did you picture our lives?”
My brows furrow. “What do you mean?”
“If I never got sick, and we got to have everything we ever wanted,” she explains. “What would that look like?”
My body sags, and I let out a breath. “Are you sure you really want to know this?” I ask. “I don’t want to upset you.”