Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 101622 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101622 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
CHAPTER 13
Warner
The cab next to ours lays on its horn. It’s the first sound in six blocks, and I’m coming out of my skin. It isn’t like Delaney to sit quietly. At least not the version of her I know so far. But it doesn’t take a genius to know when she’s quiet that she’s either devising her next step to torture me more or something else has briefly stolen her attention.
Maybe I’m finally getting to her, closer to cracking her chaotic outer shell or throwing in the towel and ending this ridiculousness she’s caught us in. I’m surprised the silent treatment is working. I’ve never fallen for it before. Never been worried enough to entertain such a petulant act. Refusing to indulge her anymore, I ask, “What’s on your mind?”
Do I think she’ll tell me the truth? She might. I don’t think every word out of her mouth is a lie. I just don’t know how to decipher between her lies and the truth. Yet. She’s harder to read than most, which I suppose is on purpose since, so far, I’ve not seen the real Delaney.
With a great outer package, a clever mind, and whip-smart mouth, I’m curious if there’s a side of her that isn’t on all the time. She replies, “You really want to know, Warner?”
“I really want to know, Delaney.” I crack a grin and dare to slide my hand over and loop my little finger over hers.
She glances down at the connection but doesn’t move away. “A lot happened today.” I want to fill the void when she pauses, but I don’t because I want to know what she thinks about, what upsets her, and makes her happy.
Shit, I care?
My chest tightens, so I reach up before remembering my arm is broken. I use my exposed fingers to massage the knot that’s forming inside me, hoping to make it disappear.
Caring is an impossibility. It’s only been two days. That would be illogical. I always keep my feelings in check. That’s not going to change just because her bottom lip shines, drawing my gaze every time I look at her, or the way she wears a pair of jeans. I like how the denim hugs her hips. I can admire her appearance without letting my feelings loose to roam. That’s how caring happens. Did I just mentally travel a loop to end up where I started? Damn, she’s rubbing off on me.
She says, “You saved me and then. . .” Her gaze moves through the windshield and distances. “You were.” A shake of her head casts her eyes down to her lap. “It was a lot today. My emotions are sort of tattered at the moment. I’ll be fine, but slowing down has given my mind too much time to process what happened.”
“Seems we’re even.”
I catch the start of a smile despite a lackluster effort to restrain it. When she looks over at me in the back of the cab, she laughs. It’s light but feels freeing, the sound even working on me. “Seems we are.” Pointing at me, she adds, “Just this one time, though.”
“I agree. I can’t wait to have you owing me.”
Laughter trickles off as her eyebrow arches. “What would I possibly owe you for?”
“I don’t know, but I’m sure I can find something to hold over your head. I mean . . . it wouldn’t be hard. You’re not much bigger than a kitten.”
“Wow, not even a full-grown cat, huh?”
My lips tighten while shaking my head. “I’m afraid not, but that’s for you to take up with your parents.” New ammunition is locked and loaded, ready to fire. And go! “How are they by the way? It’s been too long since we’ve met them for dinner.”
Horror steals the lightheartedness of the conversation as she briefly looks away from me. When she turns back, the way her bottom lip quivers causes my stomach to drop. “That’s not funny. Don’t joke about my dead dad. He’s off-limits.”
“Oh shit, I’m sorry, Delaney. I don’t know what I was thinking.” Fuck me.
Her forehead is furrowed, but she says, “We’ll blame it on the concussion since you have a touch of amnesia. Though I’d say more than a touch, considering you gave the eulogy.”
What do I say to that? I’m lying out my ass, but this is taking it too far. “Hey,” I say, my voice lower to match the somberness overtaking the car. “Are you okay? I’m sorry. I really am.”
“You should be.” She bursts out laughing. Reaching over, her hand lands on my leg, and she pats me, “My dad is alive and well. You really do have amnesia. I wasn’t sure, but dang, you fell right into that trap.”
Now I’m really left speechless. She’s no amateur. I need to up my game.
“I haven’t forgotten everything.”