Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 45357 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45357 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
I laugh, and I’m not sure if it’s relief or hysteria, but once I get started it’s hard to stop. “That’s what the nerves are about? Driving?”
He glances over at me, returning both hands to the wheel. “What did you think it was about?”
“I’ll give you one guess,” I say, catching my breath and leaning back against the seat. But from his scowl he already knows.
“I may be impatient,” he says gruffly. “But I’m not nervous. Not about being with you.”
I like the way his rough admission makes me feel. Alive. Exciting. Since he came back to town, I’ve been more aware of myself, of my body, than I have in years. My emotions are more intense. It’s overwhelming and new, but I can’t help wanting more of what I’ve been missing.
And I’ve missed more than most.
It wasn’t a conscious choice at first, but even before Mom got sick, she was struggling to raise me with no partner or family to give her a hand. It was the two of us against the world. I don’t regret that, but it didn’t leave much room for anyone else.
Everyone is lonely at some point in their lives. If it goes on long enough, it becomes normal. There’s nothing to fix or make better if it’s normal. It’s life and you accept it, not knowing what you’re missing.
I didn’t know. Neither did Aurelia Day, who told me everything she knew about my father on the morning I got up the courage to ask who he was.
She didn’t know much.
He was British, because his accent was the first thing that caught her attention. She liked his eyes. My eyes. He’d ordered tea instead of coffee at the diner where she’d worked, he never offered his number, even though she’d given him hers, and he’d disappeared the next morning with no idea that I was going to arrive nine months later.
It wasn’t the great love story I’d been expecting, but my mother had no regrets about the outcome. She told me that from the moment she found out she was pregnant she knew everything happened for a reason. I was her reason.
“You’re the only man I need, Millie.”
I used to think I knew everything about her, but I don’t know if she was ever in love or lust, or ever felt anything close to what I feel for Brendan. Unfortunately, I think I have a good idea what she’d say if she knew, because she was still alive when my crush on him grew obvious enough for her to notice.
“I love that boy, and he loves this family. He needs us, Millie. And you’ll need him when I’m gone. Don’t let a temporary feeling like desire get in the way of what really matters.”
I’ve always followed her advice. Believed it. It made sense, and what I feel for him never has. It also hasn’t gone away. No matter where he goes, what he does or who he does it with, it’s still there. And when he comes back, it’s like he never left. Like I’ve been waiting.
Knowing Brendan like I do, this has to be a temporary thing. And temporary is something I’ve never been good with. I’m not a fan of uncertainty either. It’s why working on the house is so satisfying for me. There’s a plan I have control over, steps to take and a completed result that’s solid and visible and real.
People aren’t that simple. But since he told me he wants me, since he touched me? There’s really no other decision to make. I don’t want to let go of this feeling until I have to. Not even if the worst happens, and I lose him when it’s over.
“What are you thinking about?”
I look out the window and I know where we are. There’s a side street coming up that’s narrow and overgrown and leads to a dead end. I’ve heard from my neighbors that people only go down this road for two reasons. Sure, most of those people are in high school, but I feel like a teenager right now—all hormones and no sense.
“I’m thinking you should turn left,” I say, squeezing his thigh.
Clearly confused, he follows my directions. “We’re five minutes away from the house, Miller. Do we need to stop somewhere?” He swears, shaking his head. “Supplies, right? You don’t have any—”
I laugh again, feeling lighter than I have in a while. “I have toothbrushes for random strangers, and you don’t think I’d be prepared for that? Stop the car.”
Unbuckling my seatbelt, I turn onto my knees and reach beneath the backseat for the bag I know I left there months ago.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“One of the stylists at Indulgence has a cousin who just got married. She brought me a goody bag from his bachelor party in the hopes that I would find someone to enjoy it with.”