Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
I race through the BioDistrict, where the Voodoo’s Arena looms over me like a glowering judge. Judging me for missing the playoffs this year, then judging me even harder for missing the fact that I’m already in love with this woman.
That’s the reason I’ve found every excuse I could to spend time with her since she rolled into town last fall. That’s why I can’t stop thinking about that night in April and keep waking up hard from dreams of her riding me.
Or worse, waking up in ruined sheets after I’ve come inside her, bare, always bare, because coming inside her bare was the hottest thing that’s ever happened to me. Bar none.
“Fuck,” I mutter again as Beatrice’s building rises out of the concrete ahead.
I slow, panting in the early morning breeze. Up there, on the third floor, is the only person who’s made me long for her, miss her, want to share every bit of my life with her, in years.
The only person who shatters my peace and who I want to keep shattering it, showing me where I still need to grow to become the kind of man she deserves.
But what if I’ve woken up too late?
My hands shake at my sides as I head through the sliding glass doors.
Clark, the doorman on duty behind the desk, knows me by sight and offers a friendly smile. “Morning, Blue. Up and at ‘em early this morning, are ya?”
I nod, swiping the sweat from my lip with my arm, which is…also sweaty.
I’m gross. I probably should have thought about that before I ran here, but it’s been a long time since I “courted” a woman.
I hope Bea will let me court her.
Or at least let me keep being her friend.
Or at the very least, let me apologize for the mess I made of things yesterday.
“Wish I was that motivated,” Clark continues. “Can’t remember the last time I managed more than a brisk walk after work, let alone a hard run first thing in the morning.”
I motion toward the elevator. “Is it all right if I head up?”
He nods toward the bank. “Sure thing. Though I don’t think Beatrice is in. She lit out early this morning herself, dragging a suitcase. Looked like she was headed off on an adventure.”
I conceal my surprise as I step through the open doors—some remnants from childhood never left me, and my “resting show nothing” face is a big one—but on the inside…
On the inside, I’m spiraling.
Where did Bea go? She hasn’t mentioned a work trip or a vacation, but then, we haven’t talked much lately. Not since Elly’s baby shower, when she told me she was pregnant, and I proceeded to be a fucking idiot.
I try to hold out hope—maybe she’s dropping some of Nix’s things off at Charlotte’s; she mentioned Baylor still had half his shoe collection in her closet—but deep down, I know better.
I know she’s gone.
I can feel it in the air, the absence of the light Beatrice brings to any place she inhabits.
So, I’m not really surprised when Clover opens the door with a weary shake of her head. “Well, well, look what the cat dragged in,” she says, her voice sleep-rough.
She’s still in her pajamas, with her curly brown hair sticking up at crazy angles and a zit patch on her chin, but we’ve been friends long enough that it isn’t weird.
Clover was my friend before she was Beatrice’s roommate. I introduced them, in fact. Clover and I met at a blues guitar workshop when she first moved to town, and I took her under my wing. She was only twenty-one, still a kid, and reminded me so much of my younger sister. I haven’t seen Aspen in years. She’s still part of the ministry at the Children of the Storm, and members aren’t allowed to speak to those who have left, not even family. But I hope that if she’s ever alone in a big city, someone will do the same for her.
Though Clover doesn’t need anyone looking out for her these days, a fact she proves by adding with a sigh, “Finally came to your senses, did you? About time, Blue. Jesus. What were you thinking with that letter?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know.”
“And the check.” Clover winces hard enough to make her mop of brown curls bob.
“I know,” I agree with a ragged exhale. “So…she left?”
“I tried to get her to stay. I tried to tell her that you didn’t mean to be a dick, because you’re not a dick, not even a little bit, but…” She shrugs, pity for me softening her gaze. “She found it impossible to believe that the strong, grounded, amazing Blue she knew could also be a dumb boy sometimes.”
I nod, not trusting my voice.
I was a dumb boy. So fucking dumb.