Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 41687 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 208(@200wpm)___ 167(@250wpm)___ 139(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 41687 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 208(@200wpm)___ 167(@250wpm)___ 139(@300wpm)
And what does a tipsy idiot do? Fantasy searches the internet for a dream job.
While there wasn’t a full-time teaching job open in Rabbit Island, there was a long-term substitute teacher opportunity here. I’d waited until the next day, then submitted my resume. When the principal had called for an interview, we’d hit it off right away, mostly because it turned out she was in a book club with Sibley. As soon as we’d realized we had a mutual acquaintance, we’d gabbed like old friends.
In the meantime, Sam and Griff had been amazing. They’d wrapped around me like a warm, comforting blanket and helped me rage until I was hoarse and spent.
And then Sam had done something unexpected. He’d asked me about Kit.
“I thought we didn’t talk about Bruno,” I’d joked weakly. It was true that I’d never fully confided in Sam and Jason about the romantic or sexual side of my relationship with Kit because there was so little to talk about. And it was humiliating.
“Do we think your crush on him is holding you back?”
So I’d confessed everything. The drunken funeral kiss, the office hate-fuck. The fact that he still hadn’t wanted me.
“That’s not what he said though,” Sam had pointed out. “He hadn’t wanted to take advantage of you. Drunk and grieving the first time or angry and recently-broken-up the second.”
I’d thought back to the night of the office sex and realized he hadn’t pushed me away.
…remember that you are mine. All of you. Mine.
I’d been dizzy with the memory.
And then I’d recognized a hard truth. “I have to build the life I want first. And then maybe I’ll be ready to share it with someone.”
Sam’s grin had been huge and he’d hugged me like crazy. “And the perfect man for you wouldn’t want it any other way.”
Two weeks after I’d arrived on Rabbit Island to sub in a third-grade classroom, covering the regular teacher during her maternity leave, she’d announced her intention to stay home with her baby. Two weeks after that, I was offered the job full-time.
And I loved it. Teaching third was a little different from fourth, which meant I had plenty of prep work to fill my evenings. But the new mom I’d replaced had offered to go over everything with me, and she was becoming a good friend in the process.
I felt good here. Steady. While I missed Kit horribly, I knew that going no-contact cold turkey had been the right decision. I’d spent time focusing on me, and that had been necessary and empowering.
As I let myself into my cottage, I admitted to myself I was a little lonely. Not only did I miss Kit, but I also missed my friends and coworkers. But that would have happened even if I’d stayed. Jason had moved to Kentucky, Sam and Griff were settled in Napa, and the roster of teachers at work was always changing.
What I really needed was to keep making new friends here. I’d already been invited to join a social softball team in the summer, as well as the book club. According to the internet, there was also an unofficial gay night at a local bar and grill that was welcoming to new guys.
For now, though, I was content to take it slow.
After showering, changing into comfy clothes, and starting a load of laundry, I was halfway through my morning coffee when I heard the unmistakable rumble of an expensive engine pulling into my gravel driveway. My stomach dropped as I peeked through the kitchen window and saw a sleek black SUV like the kind I’d ridden in countless times over the years.
No. No fucking way.
My hands trembled as I set down my mug, coffee sloshing over the rim. Six weeks. I’d managed six weeks of radio silence, of rebuilding myself piece by piece in this quiet coastal town where nobody knew my history or my heartbreak. Six weeks of sleeping through the night without dreaming about Kit’s hands on my body, his voice in my ear.
Well, that part was a lie. Memories of that night in his office had played so often in my memory, they might as well have been brain wallpaper by now.
The car door closed with an expensive thunk, and I pressed myself against the kitchen wall like a fugitive, heart hammering against my ribs. Maybe he wouldn’t come to the door. Maybe he was just… what? Lost? Taking a scenic route to somewhere else?
Three sharp knocks destroyed that fantasy.
I closed my eyes and counted to ten, then twenty, hoping he’d assume I wasn’t home and leave. But of course, Kit didn’t give up. He rarely did.
Another round of knocks, more insistent this time.
“Robbie, I know you’re in there. There’s a car in the driveway, and your Ritual coffee mug is in the cup holder.”
His voice sent a shock wave through my nervous system. Deep, calm, familiar—and completely unwelcome. I’d worked so hard to stop hearing it in my head, to stop craving the way he said my name.