Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91490 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91490 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Byron stands in the doorway wearing plaid pajama bottoms and a white t-shirt stretched over his muscled torso.
We lock eyes from across the cabins. “Rosey?”
“I just couldn’t wait until eight,” I say, as if that explains everything. “I have all these things I want to say. And I’m sorry I woke you but—”
“You didn’t wake me,” he interrupts. “And I want to hear all the things you want to say.”
“You weren’t asleep?”
He lifts his hand to scratch the back of his head. The hem of his t-shirt lifts, exposing his stomach. I want to talk about important stuff, but his body? It has the ability to distract me from a nuclear war. “Way too much on my mind,” he says, breaking my focus on his abs. “I’m making ragu. Want some?” A sexy smile curves around his lips.
I definitely want some ragu. Especially if “ragu” is a euphemism for something else entirely.
I scramble down the steps to get to him and he meets me halfway.
“You moved?” I say, glancing back at his old cabin. But I don’t wait for a response before I say, “I went to Oregon and I figured all this stuff out and I want to tell you about it. Because it involves you. You and me. And I realize… so much now.”
He gives me a small smile, scoops up my hand. It feels so good to be touching him, to feel his hand in mine. It feels safe and secure. He’s protective without being controlling. I see the difference now. We head into the cabin as if all the time since I’ve moved out has been erased.
“Come inside and tell me everything.”
He heads to the burner and turns off the heat.
His skin against mine feels so right. Warm and safe and solid. I’ve never experienced Byron as controlling or selfish. He’s always let me do what I want to do. I’ve met his friends and seen how they love him—as much or more than this town does. I’ve been expecting him to be like the people around me in Oregon, but I’m not in Oregon anymore. I’m right here in Star Falls, Colorado.
My life changed forever the day I was supposed to marry Frank. Because I met Byron.
“You want some hot chocolate?” he asks.
I just want you, I want to say. I manage to hold back. “Sure.” That should give me room to breathe, time to organize my thoughts. I glance around and see Athena curled up on the floor by the fire. She opens one eye, sees me, but goes back to sleep. Cats.
I take a seat on the couch and he sets about heating milk in the pan and taking mugs from the cupboard. He’s calm and considered, like me turning up in the middle of the night telling him I’ve been to Oregon happens every last Tuesday of the month.
“How come you couldn’t sleep?” I ask.
“Tell me about Oregon first. That’s why you’re here.”
He’s right. I’m stalling. I just don’t know how to start. “I saw Mom and my sisters.”
He turns, catching my eye. “You okay?”
“Yes. I mean, no.” I sigh. “Kinda. It was tough to leave my sisters. But they’re all adults. They have their own journeys to take with my mom. I can’t force them to break free.”
He sighs and turns back to the stove.
“I can only decide what I want. What I do. And…” And what? I decide I want Byron? What if he doesn’t feel the same way? He has his reasons for not wanting anything serious.
He drops marshmallows into the two mugs and brings them both over to the couch. I take the cup from him and our eyes lock. I want to kiss him. I want him to hold me. I want to skip everything before the really good part. But I owe us both more.
“That sounds… logical,” he responds.
“And I want to stop running.”
His eyes widen slightly. “So you’re staying in Star Falls?”
I can’t read him. Is he happy? Disappointed?
“I don’t mean running away from Oregon. I mean running away from… everything. When I left Mom and Frank, I wanted my freedom. I thought geography would solve that problem, but of course, it’s never that simple. I thought if I could keep myself separate, stay on an island, I’d be okay. I’d be free. But the opposite happened. Being on an island is isolating. It’s lonely.”
Sadness shadows his face and he reaches for my hand. I realize that he cares. Really cares. About Star Falls and the Colorado Club. And maybe about me.
I glance up into his eyes. “Freedom doesn’t mean being on an island. It’s making decisions that feel good for me. Decisions that are right for my hopes and dreams for the future. I thought I had to shut down any vulnerability, stay on my island, so I didn’t fall back into the pattern of doing things for other people—so I didn’t end up marrying a man I didn’t love, or having a life I don’t want to please someone who doesn’t care about me. But I figured out that being vulnerable wasn’t the problem. The problem was—is—my mom.” I slide my mug onto the table beside the couch before I spill it. “I came to Star Falls thinking I had a choice: be alone or be controlled. But being with you… it’s shown me a new possibility.”