Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 111048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 555(@200wpm)___ 444(@250wpm)___ 370(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 555(@200wpm)___ 444(@250wpm)___ 370(@300wpm)
I wondered what “it” was. Whoever had written it had been giving themselves some kind of pep talk. I flipped some more— the pages riffling past like cards being shuffled. Anytime I found a sideways written note, it seemed to be their way of talking to themselves, whether it was a pep talk or a lecture.
He did it again. And I’m a fucking moron. I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep pretending that we’re okay… that I’m okay. I want it to be all his fault, but I know it’s not. It took two of us to get here.
I wondered at the words. Could it be someone with a jerk for a boyfriend or an asshole boss? The handwriting looked masculine to me, but then again, what the hell did I know? I read some more, intent on figuring out at the very least if my mysterious journal’s owner was a man or a woman. Before I had a chance to read further, though, Tomás poked his head in.
“Chase is waiting for you.”
I snapped my head up. “I said to tell him twenty minutes.”
“It’s been twenty-five, Aiden. Delphinia should be here soon,” Tomás replied with a fangirl look on his face. I looked at my watch. Sure enough, it was time. I quickly slid the pilfered journal back into my bag and gathered what I needed for the presentation. If all went well, I could be sitting in box seats at a Jets game one night and have backstage access with Delphinia at Madison Square Garden the next.
Not bad for a week’s worth of work.
I’d read the damn thing again.
All night long.
Cover to cover.
I shook my head as I hurried down the sidewalk. I absolutely would return the journal today. I wanted, no… needed to get the thing out of my life. What little sleep I’d gotten had been rife with nightmares.
Well, not nightmares with an s. Just the same damn nightmare that had morphed to include the nameless, faceless author of the journal, as well as a certain gorgeous barista-in-training. My only saving grace was that Bennett hadn’t been in the dream. Regardless, I’d woken up in a cold sweat anyway, because even though I hadn’t hesitated to save Ash in the dream, his fingers had slipped through mine just seconds after I’d reached him. I’d screamed his name as the water had pulled him under. I’d heard his whispered “I’m sorry” in my ear seconds after he’d disappeared beneath the water’s shimmering surface.
Tension rolled through me and it didn’t ease until I walked into the coffee shop and saw Ash standing behind the counter.
God, this was so fucked up.
I forced myself to relax as the line got shorter and shorter. I’d arrived earlier than usual since I hadn’t been able to go back to sleep, so the shop wasn’t as busy. I let my eyes slide over Ash as he worked. I felt a surge of pride go through me as he moved with a newfound sense of confidence. He continued to tense up whenever the door opened, but I noticed that he didn’t look up each time. My gut told me it wasn’t an easy thing for him, and I once again wondered what had happened to put him so on edge. My eyes fell to the wrist brace he still wore and my insides tightened.
No, it couldn’t be…
My thought was cut off because it was my turn to step up to the counter. Without even looking up, Ash said, “Americano, no room?”
I smiled as the realization hit me.
He’d noticed me entering the shop at some point. I’d just missed it.
“Yes, please… good morning, Ash.”
A reluctant smile spread across his mouth as he scribbled on the cup with a pen before handing it to Emily. “Good morning. Are you living long and prospering, Mr. Vale?” he asked as he shot me a quick glance. His voice was rich and full, and it poured over me like warm milk. My body instantly tightened with desire, but I managed to quell the hard-on that was threatening to expose my predicament.
“It’s Aiden,” I reminded him. “Or I’ll have to start calling you Mr….” I quirked a brow at him in question.
He hesitated briefly as he lifted his eyes and held my gaze. I wanted to shout out with joy that he didn’t immediately drop his eyes again. It was the smallest of victories, but I felt like I’d won gold at the goddamn Olympics.
“Valentine. Ash Valentine,” he answered. He shifted back and forth on his feet nervously as he waited for Emily to finish my drink, but thankfully, he didn’t drop his eyes. I remembered to shoot Emily a smile when she placed the cup on the counter, but then my eyes were back on Ash. I could have reached for the cup myself, but I didn’t.