Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 104657 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 523(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104657 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 523(@200wpm)___ 419(@250wpm)___ 349(@300wpm)
“Have you ever performed a circumcision?” As soon as the words are out, I internally berate myself for continuing this absurd conversation.
She glances to the side. “Hmm. No. But I observed a pediatrician performing the procedure. Looked pretty simple.”
“Everleigh, go home. I don’t need any medical procedures. I’ll tell my dick you’re sorry. Let’s just leave it at that.”
She deflates, and we have a brief stare-off. “Do you remember that kiss standing outside of the cab after you crashed my kite? I think about it every day. Do you think that’s weird?”
“Do you think this is weird?” I glance around and chuckle. “You have a fucking medical degree and, by all measurable standards, are a genius. You make a lot of money. You’re still in your twenties with endless potential. Yet, you’re standing outside of a run-down bar in downtown Missoula with a smoke-eating man-whore who graduated high school with a three-point-one GPA. There are a million guys with fancy degrees, impressive financial portfolios, and knowledgeable views of the world who would love to spend the evening in your company. Do you not see that?”
She keeps a poker face. After I lose and look away first, she turns and walks toward the street. “I’m going to IHOP.”
Chapter Thirteen
Eleven years earlier . . .
I never needed a woman to look at me with any sort of wonder in her eyes. I was a guy with simple needs.
Food.
Beer.
Sex.
Everleigh Reichart made me question my priorities because all she had was wonder in her eyes when she gazed at me.
Our first night together ended in gaming. Sure, I slid my fingers into her panties while she served me breakfast the following morning, but that ended with her gripping my shoulder and the edge of the table as her knees buckled and her mouth fell agape with a long “Oh god . . .” filling the air. When she opened her eyes, there it was, sheer wonder.
We had yet to have sex. But for the first time in my life, I didn’t care. There was something about Everleigh that made sex feel like an afterthought. While we were on our way back to Everleigh’s apartment following the kite incident, Tyler called me. The guys were having drinks, and after skipping lunch with his parents, I couldn’t weasel out of anything else.
The following afternoon, Everleigh attended two classes and then showed me around Stanford’s gardens. I carried her backpack while she skipped ahead of me, talking nonstop and turning to walk backward a few times, facts spewing endlessly from her lips. She was an encyclopedia of information. Since I was far from a genius, it never occurred to me she was smarter than literally everyone I knew. After all, Tyler’s fiancée was smart and in medical school with Everleigh.
We meandered through the winding pathways of green spaces around the Memorial Church to a private area for reflection. A place for peaceful solitude. She pointed to the words inscribed in the circle on patterned pavers. Then she stood in the middle and whispered each word.
For the troubled may you find peace ~ For the despairing may you find hope ~ For the lonely may you find love ~ For the skeptical may you find faith
Her bright eyes found mine. “Which are you, Will? Troubled? Despairing? Lonely? Skeptical?”
“Does it matter?” I asked.
“Of course. I can’t fix you if you don’t tell me.”
“Fix me?” I grinned. “You think you can fix me?”
“I can try.”
I stared at the circle of words. “I’m lonely.”
“Then we go to IHOP.”
My gaze lifted to hers. “IHOP?”
“Yes.” She jumped out of the circle and took my hand, leading me back the way we came. “At the end of my first week of medical school, I went to IHOP with friends. I just wanted one pancake. The server told me I needed to order the short stack. I said I only wanted one. But he said one is lonely. If I wanted to find love, I needed to have at least two—one to eat and one to share. I think he was just flirting with me because he then said, ‘Unless you’re already in love.’ So I ordered the short stack.”
“And did you find someone to share with?” I asked.
“No.” She laughed. “But I haven’t given up. When I’m lonely, I go to IHOP and order the short stack. Eventually, I’ll find that special person.”
I marveled at her reasoning, her enthusiasm for something as simple as pancakes. She was effortlessly persuasive and contagiously optimistic.
“Keep your eyes peeled for owls in the eucalyptus,” she said as we passed through more gardens on the way to the parking lot.
I was too busy looking at her to care about owls in eucalyptus.
Chapter Fourteen
Shay. Mariah. Becca.
I pass up three opportunities to have meaningless sex. My excuses are lame at best.
Too tired. Past my bedtime. A friend is meeting me.