Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 101524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
While I’m clicking away on my calculator, my cell phone beeps with a message, and I glance over at my phone that is sitting face up on the top of my desk.
Cole
Hey, sorry I missed your call last night; I’ll try to call you this afternoon if I have time.
Dragging in a deep breath, I focus back on my computer rather than the annoyance that has settled in the pit of my stomach. I’m not even annoyed with Cole; I’m annoyed with myself for thinking that we had even a shot at making a long-distance relationship work. We could hardly find time for each other when we lived in the same building, and now with me here and him there, it’s become an out of sight, out of mind type of situation. I don’t even blame him for that, neither of us have put much effort into finding time to connect.
Pulling up Google, I type in what is a fluid relationship? As I read the first few suggestions, my mouth falls open. Each definition is different, but the gist of it is that you and your partner are open to a third person entering the relationship. I wonder if he even knows the definition. I also wonder if it even matters. If I’m being honest with myself, I know that he and I aren’t even together and that I’m just holding onto him because it’s safe. The same way it was safe to be with him when we lived in the same city, because he never expected too much from me. Not my time, not my feelings. For sure not love.
Shoving that depressing thought out of my head, I exit out of my search history and dive back into work. At around two, the grumbling in my stomach becomes so loud that I can’t ignore it any longer, so I get up with my phone and head to the kitchen. Opening the fridge, I find it mostly empty except for the stuff for Zuri’s lunch and breakfast. Grabbing a Diet Coke and one of her Lunchables, I rip open the top and make myself a cracker cheese and meat sandwich as I lean against the counter. As I’m chewing, my cell on the counter beeps, and I look down at it.
Logan
Open the door.
Like I can see through the walls of my house, I look towards the living room, then almost jump out of my skin when the doorbell goes off a few seconds later.
Shoving the rest of the cracker meat and cheese into my mouth, I walk through the living room and stop to look in the mirror next to the door. My eyes look tired from staring at my computer all day, my hair that I tied up in a messy bun this morning is still a mess, and my black tank top is sprinkled with bits of cracker dust. After dusting the crumbs off my top, I start to fix my hair but it’s hopeless, so I just leave it be.
Ripping my gaze off my reflection I drag in a breath and open the door ignoring the way my heartbeat speeds up at the sight of Logan.
“What…” My question is cut off when he holds my Bronco keys up between us. “You fixed my car already?”
“It didn’t take as long as I thought it would,” he says, and I look past him to the driveway and find my Bronco parked next to his mom’s car. “I figured I could drop it off, and we could pick up my Jeep, then drop off Mom’s car before we go pick up the kids.
My eyes slowly slide up to his. Yesterday, when Zuri told me that she wanted to go get food with Coop after school, I reluctantly agreed because I could tell that she was excited about the idea of hanging out with her friend again, and I want her to be happy despite my own reservations about spending more time with Logan.
“I thought Zuri and I would just meet you and Cooper at Sonic after school.”
“We’re going to the same place, no need to drive two cars,” he says, and my stomach curls in on itself at the idea of spending even more time alone with him.
“I still have a little work to do.”
“That’s cool.” He takes a step towards me, leaving me no choice but to back up. “I can hang out here until you’re done.” He takes another step towards me, and I take another step back, then watch him close the door.
Okay, apparently, he’s staying, and I don’t get a say. Scraping my teeth over my bottom lip, I pull my eyes off his and turn towards the kitchen. He doesn’t make a sound as he follows me, but I feel his presence like a weighted blanket. Walking to the counter, I pick up what is left of the Lunchable, load up another cracker with cheese and meat, and shove it into my mouth.