Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 69018 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69018 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
She sighs, and the breeze steals it and takes it directly to my ears. It also brings the scent of her, delicate and soft. Flowers and cat breath. I’m kidding. I think.
What is she contemplating? She seems transfixed by the crashing waves. I guess an unspoken love of the water is one thing we have in common. It can be communicated without the need for language.
I wanted to ask Ephemeral a thousand things in the kitchen, but I realized they’d all be misconstrued after I paid her debt. That was part of a professional fix what you broke, asswad package. Asking for anything personal would have come out completely wrong. You don’t mix personal and professional. It’s better if the personal side never gets involved because personal can cost you everything. I haven’t done anything personal with anyone in years. It’s been the job, the job, the job, with room for nothing else. And I like it that way. I’ve made it that way.
I shift subtly, edging my curled leg out straight. Fuck! The pins and needles hit so hard that I bite down on the sudden burst of pain. It’s not even my hip this time. Just a straight-up dead limb. I must make some kind of noise because Ephemeral gasps. She surges forward at the damn metal safety railing that was installed when the house was built so no one plunged over the sharp cliffs to their death.
Thankfully, she grasps the railing harder. It’s shoulder height, so there’s no risk that she’ll go over with a scare. Still, I’m up and hobbling toward her like I have to save her from going over.
Her lips part when she sees me coming, and her vibrant green eyes narrow in a glare. I one hundred million percent deserve it. I’m out here being an imbecile of a stalker. What was I thinking?
I’m still hobbling since the feeling hasn’t returned to my foot yet, and it’s like a dead limb that I have to drag if I don’t hop. The closer I get, the more weight I can bear on it. Ephemeral’s lips purse, and she voices my thoughts verbatim.
“What were you thinking?” Her lips purse further. “And what on earth are you doing out here?”
I’m embarrassed, so I do what I’ve been doing lately whenever I’m in her presence. I clam up, which is, if you think about it, quite hilarious—that is, my mouth going all clamshell instead of duck-lipped.
Her eyes search my face as if she can see right through me. Is she doing the soul telepathy? I feel a pull on the inside of my chest.
Instead of blasting me or waiting for an answer to her previous question that’s obviously not coming, she goes for something not entirely unexpected, given that I’m sitting all alone out here. “Are you really going to be alright?” Because if I was, why would I be out here? It might be my own yard, but leaving and then not leaving is just plain not alright behavior. I still can’t say anything, so she goes even further. “Who are your people? Where do you come from? Do you have friends and family?”
I stare. It’s easier to be a clam than to try to evade. Because that would only result in stammering.
She keeps looking at me, trying to take my measure. “Why are you looking at me that way?”
I know what way I’m looking at her. I’m looking at her like she’s an ethereal apparition, too beautiful for this earthly plane.
“Alright, well, if you’re not going to answer that, then tell me just one thing from your past.”
I don’t know why we’re talking about this. Do I owe her answers? Can I even tell her anything and still keep her safe? She looks at me hungrily, like she truly wants to know the answers.
“My body count really is zero. I wasn’t kidding about that.” Oh, words. A minor miracle.
I shuffle over to her. She turns away, but not because she wants me to leave. She’s giving me her back because she feels safe enough with me to let me guard her exposed flank. I step into her space and hover there, not touching her. She looks out at the crashing waves and the bright moon glistening on the unruly velvet surface.
She’s so close that I can feel the heat coming off her body. I wonder if she’s cold. The wind has a chill to it, especially when it is this close to the water. I step just a little bit closer, shielding her with my huge chest and casting my shadow over hers.
“You know the facts about me, but you don’t really know me,” she whispers, her voice nearly drowned out by the crashing roar. “You can’t possibly know what it’s like to watch someone you love, the only person in your life, die. It didn’t matter that I was already an adult. It was horrible. My mom was a single mom. I do know my dad, but we don’t really have a relationship. Just like my mom with her parents. They’re not close. I know it had a lot to do with her being a teenage mom. She was tough, though. The brightest light.