Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 87913 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87913 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
“Thanks for keeping me company,” I tell him quietly when we reach the bottom of the steps that lead up to the patio, and he looks down at me.
“Any time.”
With a nod, I drop my gaze from his and walk up the stairs, losing sight of him as he disappears into the crowd.
As the evening carries on, I catch a glimpse of him from time to time and swear his unusual blue eyes are always on me. I tell myself it’s just my imagination, but that doesn’t stop my knees from getting weak or my skin from prickling each and every time my eyes meet his.
CHAPTER 3
Francisca
“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you?” Dad asks, then continues quietly while looking around, “You’d be doing me a favor by giving me an excuse to get out of here.”
“Mom would be upset if you left.”
“She’d get over it.”
“Get over what?” Mom asks, joining us and leaning her weight into Dad’s side. She’s been drinking this evening, and it shows—not just in the cute shade of pink on the bridge of her nose and across her cheeks, but her smile is so bright that it’s infectious.
“I was just telling Dad that I’m going to head home.”
“Already?” Her smile melts away.
“Yeah, I’m tired and ready to go to bed.”
“You could stay the night here, in your old room.” Her expression brightens at the idea.
“I would, but I need to get home to PJ.”
“I never see you anymore,” she pouts.
“That’s not true. I see you multiple times a week.”
“It’s not the same as having you here all the time, like when you were little.”
Laughing, I wrap my arms around her. “How about I come to spend the night next weekend? I can bring PJ, and we can stay up late, eat junk food, and watch movies.”
“I’d love that.” Her hold on me gets tighter, making it hard to breathe.
“All right, let her go, honey before you cut off her oxygen,” Dad tells her.
“I’m not going to cut off her oxygen,” she snaps, letting me go and glaring at him.
“You could.”
“I was just hugging my baby, not strangling her.”
“With you, it’s kind of the same thing,” Dad mumbles, wrapping his arm around her waist. Ignoring the look she gives him, his eyes come to me. “Call or send a text as soon as you get home.”
“I will,” I promise, and he leans down, kissing my cheek. “Love you, Mom.”
“I love you too.” She steps away from my dad to give me another hug. “Tonight wasn’t so bad, was it?” she asks in a whisper, squeezing me tight.
“No, not at all.” The party as a whole wasn’t as bad as I thought it might be, but I’m mentally exhausted after spending time around so many people and ready to be alone to decompress.
Kissing her cheek, I get another hug from my dad, then say goodbye to a few other people before I make my way through the house. When I get to the entryway, I see Dayton near the front door, talking to one of my father’s friends. Not wanting to interrupt them to say goodbye, I step outside, and two young guys—around the same age as the kid who opened the door for me when I arrived earlier in the evening—turn to look at me.
“Would you like us to get your car?” one of them asks, and I shake my head, carefully navigating the steps.
“No, I’m going to get an Uber, but thank you, though,” I say softly, and he nods, going back to chatting with his friend.
Dropping my eyes to my phone, I load up my Uber app. It’s not very late, but between the time and the location of my parents' house, the closest driver is twenty minutes away.
“Great,” I whisper to myself. Still, I press the button, agreeing to the ride.
“Everything okay?”
Turning my head, I look over my shoulder at Dayton as he comes down the stairs. After we sat outside earlier, he didn’t bother putting his jacket back on or rolling down his sleeves. Besides my dad, he was the only man inside who seemed to have no problem getting a little more comfortable.
“Yeah, just my Uber won’t be here for a bit.”
“I’ll give you a ride.” He passes a piece of paper to one of the kids, and they jog off into the dark toward the area at the back of the property my parents use for parking any time they have a party like this.
“I already ordered a ride but thank you.”
“Cancel it.”
Smiling at the quiet demand rather than bristling—which would be my normal response to anyone else—I shake my head. “It’s really okay.” I rub my arms, which are suddenly covered in goosebumps. It’s much cooler than it was earlier, and my dress is doing nothing to fight the chill in the air. “They’ll be here in twenty minutes.”