Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 34760 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 174(@200wpm)___ 139(@250wpm)___ 116(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34760 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 174(@200wpm)___ 139(@250wpm)___ 116(@300wpm)
"It's at the front. Second from the left," she says, eyeing me sideways. Concern flickers in her eyes, and I briefly wonder if Sarah told her what's going on. "Are you okay?"
No. I feel like I'm dying, but if I talk about it now, I'm going to cry. It's been two days since I last saw Ash. Two damn days since he had his arms around me, since he kissed me, since I heard him laugh.
He's left me nineteen different voicemails.
I'm a coward who only managed to get through the first one before I ended up sobbing in my bed. I didn't call him back. I didn't even know what to say.
This feels like the end, and I don't know how to deal with that.
How do you say goodbye to the man who stole your entire heart? I don't know. How do you go back to your life and pretend you didn't spend two weeks living a fairytale that has suddenly turned into an excruciating nightmare? I don't know the answer to that question, either.
I just know that I miss him. It hurts to breathe without him. And somewhere over the last two days, I've started wondering if maybe I'm asking for too much. Maybe asking a rockstar to invite a librarian into every facet of his life is a ridiculous expectation. I don't know anymore.
"I don't want to talk about it," I whisper, a dangerous quiver in my voice.
Lilah squeezes my arm, sympathy on her face, and then she nods. "Then I won't ask," she says, and yet again, I find myself intensely grateful for her. She never pushes for more than I can give, never demands details I'm not ready to share. She just…quietly checks in. I appreciate that more than she knows. "I'm going to go find Lincoln and all the wine you need to drown your sorrows. You head to the table."
"Thanks," I say. "Um, for everything."
Her lips curve into a sweet smile. "It's what friends are for, Loralei. Good luck."
I'm not entirely sure what she means by that until I near the table and two members of the city council step aside, revealing a familiar head of dark hair seated at the table, with dozens of people crowded around him.
I stumble to a stop, blinking.
He came.
He actually freaking came.
My heart thuds against my ribcage, tears burning up the back of my throat. I'm rooted in place, fawning when I want to flee.
He murmurs something to the mayor and then glances up as if he senses me there, my desperate eyes locked on him. His gaze connects with mine. For a second, all the air gets sucked out of the room. Everyone else disappears. It's just me and him again, like we're back in his cabin, the whole world hidden by sheeting rain.
I sway slightly, stumbling back a step.
I can't do this. I can't sit beside him, smiling, pretending everything is fine when it feels like my heart is being ripped in two. When I don't even know why he's here or what it means.
"If you'll excuse me," he says, interrupting the mayor midsentence, his deep voice rumbling above the noise of the crowd as he stands. "My beautiful date has arrived."
No, please, no.
But no amount of pleading is going to stop the inevitable.
He steps around the mayor like the man doesn't even exist, his eyes still locked on me. He doesn't look away a single time, not until his hand is on my arm, his chest pressed against mine. His lips brush my ear.
I'm acutely aware of everyone watching us like this is a stage play instead of my actual life. But they don't matter, not really.
"Loralei," Ash breathes, his voice shaking.
I whimper. I don't mean to do it, but there's no stopping the sound. I'm so goddamn miserable without him that it's pathetic.
"Loralei," he says again, pulling me closer.
"Ash," I choke, pressing my face against his throat.
"Christ, I've missed you, beautiful," he rasps, the tip of his tongue touching the side of my throat.
I make a sound that's half surrender, half frustration. And then my hand is on his arm, practically dragging him through the gala. Everyone watches us go, avidly curious, but I don't care. We aren't doing this in front of the whole town.
I drag him out of the ballroom, down the hall, and into an empty conference room. Only when the door is closed behind us do I spin to face him, breathing hard.
"You look stunning, baby," he murmurs, leaning against the door, his hands at his sides like he's trying his best to behave himself. "I wish like hell I'd been there to see you getting into that pretty dress."
"What are you doing here, Ash?" I ask, crossing my arms in the hopes that'll help me keep my hands to myself. He's in a full tux, his beard neatly trimmed, looking edible. I'm too damn weak for this.