Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 57139 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57139 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
For one heartbeat too long, he didn’t respond. His jaw ticked while his eyes focused on the road.
“Don’t ever forget it,” he finally said. “Though I draw the line at a mother-in-law suite above the garage when you finally get married.”
I smiled. “Please. You’d go in the pool house.”
“I’m allergic to chlorine.”
“Okay, fine. A smart home shed in the backyard with fiber internet, nerf guns, and virtual reality. You can raise your sad little spreadsheet family in peace.”
He huffed out a laugh. “Make it soundproof and we’ve got a deal.”
And just like that, the tension left. But fragments of it lingered too, soft and heavy in the space between us.
I leaned my head against the window and stared out into the dark, heart thudding quietly under Ezra’s jacket.
Tomorrow, I started dating my past, the Dateline whiteboard would come to life.
But tonight, I was wrapped in the one person I trusted not to ruin me.
CHAPTER
FOUR
EZRA
I had a dream you were choking me and my therapist says it says I want you to control me again—in bed or like anywhere, even the grocery store. You want to match-a? Ha HA! Call me. Oh also, I’m back on caffeine again. YOLO.
–Bryce
Ireached for my coffee, the annoying sound of rain pelting against my office window competing with the sound of my fingers typing. Instead of looking at my coffee, I glared at the window.
Dumb mistake.
The mug slipped from my hand, scalding liquid splashing across my skin before the ceramic shattered against the floor in my office like it was echoing something deeper. How typical, me reading into every nuance and thinking the universe was actively working against me even by way of my mug.
I hissed, shaking my hand, cursing under my breath. It burned, the pain reminding me of something deeper.
The mess was minor.
The memory it triggered?
Not so much minor as it was a major blip in the bin of past memories I’d rather set on fire than re-live.
It had been raining that night too. Of course it had. Like some overused TV trope—rain as a harbinger of heartbreak. How poetic.
The storm slammed against the windows, drummed against the roof, rattled the whole world like it knew what was coming.
She’d said she’d be late.
Late, not missing.
So I waited. The wine—her favorite cab—was already poured, waiting in two glasses on the coffee table in front of the TV. I’d ordered Korean BBQ, the spicy kind she loved with extra kimchi that made her nose run and eyes water and her laugh get all breathless.
And—because I’m a damn idiot—I’d even tossed rose petals on the ground. Not a full carpet. Just a stupid little heart shape. Like a joke. Like I was mocking every romantic sap I’d ever rolled my eyes at.
I still had my baseball cap on. Still wore my neon glasses. She never cared what I looked like anyway, she said she never wanted me to change for anyone, least of all her.
And it’s not like I was a troll—I just liked being invisible—I didn’t like the attention. Not anymore.
It was easier than being noticed and misnamed. Easier than someone calling you hot and then treating you like an accessory. Easier than being told you were almost something.
So I stayed hidden. Behind books. Behind screens. Behind jokes.
Until that night.
When I almost didn’t.
The key finally turned in the lock making such a loud clicking noise I immediately started sweating. I panicked—ran into my room, heart pounding, face hot, pretending like I wasn’t about to take a leap. I grabbed a novel off my nightstand and flopped onto the bed, grin still plastered on my face like a fool in a rom-com.
The door opened. I waited.
“Ummf, sorry,” she giggled. “My roommate probably has someone coming over. Oh my gosh—he’s being so cute! No way! I think he finally found someone!”
The smile slid right off my face.
“Look! Even a heart—and wine—and damn, son, get yours!”
I sat up, ready to tell her that nobody else was walking through that door, that she was it and would always be it, that the person I found had been standing in front of me and beside me and sometimes kicking my ass behind me my entire existence.
I was finally ready. I was going to march out there and say, It’s for you. It’s always been for you.
But I froze. There was another voice. I watched, unable to even blink.
A guy was with her.
Tall. Grinning. Confident in the way only people who’ve never been told they’re too much of something ever are. He leaned in, nuzzling her neck like he’d done it a thousand times.
“Bedroom?” he murmured.
She shoved him, playful. “I said we should study.”
He laughed. I hated it. I hated it so much because it sounded calculated, like he already knew he had her, he knew he was lucky, and he knew he was going to get her and didn’t even deserve her, the bastard. “Let me study you. I’ll get all A’s.”