Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 97199 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97199 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
“When I win,” she counters as she walks toward the bar to retrieve the bottle of scotch. “If I roll a five next, you’re toast. It’s officially game over.”
“What the hell?” I mutter. “That can’t be right.”
“Oh, it is.” She pours two fingers’ worth of scotch into the tumbler. “Let’s toast to your downfall.”
“Let’s not.” I shake my head and point toward the small box I yanked out of my jacket pocket. “Open your gift first.”
Her brows pinch together. “What? You got me a gift? Why?”
I’ll answer the last question because it’s the only one that matters. “It’s a small token of appreciation for your gift.”
“I didn’t give you the special edition because I expected a gift in return.”
I stand, too, so we’re on even ground. “I know you didn’t. I found this and thought you might like it.”
Correction: I know she will like it.
I know that because I found something that is rare and beautiful. It only cost me a few dollars, but I hope Opal will view it as priceless.
She leans forward a touch. “What is it?”
I asked the clerk at the second-hand shop where I bought the gift to wrap it for me. She did that with a piece of pink paper and a gold ribbon that she twisted around her fingers a few times to create a stunning bow. I was so impressed by her skill that I took a picture of the gift. It’s not as though I’ll try and recreate the wrapping job myself, but I will show it to Lola since she considers herself a stellar gift wrapper, and she may find some inspiration in it.
“Open it and see,” I encourage as I tap the corner of the gift.
She eyes me for a moment, her gaze sweeping over my face until it reaches my lips. “Okay.”
I can tell she’s hesitant. I don’t know if it’s because she’s wary of what’s inside the box or if she’s concerned that I’m expecting something from her in return. I guess I am, but it’s only a smile.
Since I’ve started spending time with her, I’ve realized that her face, when it lights up with a smile, is truly a sight to behold. The word ‘beautiful’ doesn’t capture what I see when I look at her. I don’t know that there’s a word in existence that does.
She picks up the box and tugs on one end of the ribbon, releasing it. The rest of the ribbon unfurls, falling into a puddle of gold on the table. Her breath hitches slightly as she slides a fingernail under a corner of the wrapping paper to loosen it.
As soon as that’s on the table, too, she looks up at me. “Thank you, William.”
“You haven’t seen what’s in the box yet, Opal.”
“Whatever it is, thank you.” She bows her chin slightly. “This was an incredibly thoughtful thing to do for me.”
I want to tell her it was the right thing to do, but it wasn’t. It was the selfish thing to do. I sought out what’s in that box because I knew it would mean something to her. I don’t expect it to touch her the same way the special edition Turquoise Crown game touched me, but I’m hoping she’ll treasure what’s in that box and think of me whenever she glances at it.
I keep my gaze on her face as she opens the box, and a small gasp escapes from between her lips.
21
Opal
I can’t believe what I’m holding in my hands. It’s a vintage pill box, but it’s not just any ordinary pill box.
This one is exquisite.
It’s round, crafted from porcelain, and the lid has a vibrant flower pattern on it in rich tones of blue and pink. It’s striking.
I look up at the man who just handed it to me. “William.”
He smiles at the sound of his name. “Do you like it?”
“I love it,” I blurt out, and without considering the consequences, I launch myself at him.
I wrap both arms around his shoulders, and to accommodate our height difference, I push up to my tiptoes.
His arms are around my back before he can say a thing.
“It’s so thoughtful,” I whisper. “And so beautiful. How did you know I collect them?”
I want to push back to look into his eyes as he answers, but being this close to him is a gift in itself, so I cling to him.
“Your personal Instagram profile is linked…”
“Oh, shoot,” I interrupt him. “I noticed that. I meant to set one up for the bar, but it slipped my mind.”
I move back a touch to gain solid footing because I swear my knees are getting weaker by the second. Being this close to him is making me feel slightly lightheaded. I could blame it on the gin, but that would only be a convenient excuse.
I glance at his face to find his eyes locked on mine. Neither of us says a thing. We just stare, and as if by some magnetic force, he tilts his head one way. I tilt mine the other as we both lean in for what I know will be an unforgettable first kiss.