Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 77120 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77120 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Yeah.
And…
I want to tell her how I feel in this moment, how sorry I am for everything I’ve done. But words fail me. Instead, I pull away.
“Tabitha,” I begin, but she places a finger over my lips.
“Not now, Henry,” she whispers, her voice barely audible over the music. “Just dance.”
I nod. She’s right. This isn’t the time or the place.
The song continues, Jesse’s smooth baritone blending with the strumming of the guitars. Tabitha lays her head on my chest. The world falls silent around us. It’s just us and the music.
I close my eyes and try to etch this moment into my memory. The melody of Dragonlock playing softly in the background, the feel of Tabitha against me, our bodies moving together.
Until she pulls away slightly. My eyes flutter open to find hers staring back at me. Those bright eyes hold a thousand questions that I don’t have answers to. She traces her fingers down my arm, her touch sending a jolt through me.
“What is it?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady over the music.
She doesn’t respond right away. Instead, she reaches up and brushes my hair off my forehead.
“I just…” She pauses then, bites her lip. “I want to know if this—us—is real.”
Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. The truth is, I don’t know. All I know is how I feel when I’m with her and how hollow I feel the rest of the time.
I’m only good for quick fucks right now. That’s all I have the mental bandwidth for until I can wrap my head around my actions in Angie’s townhome that horrible day.
And Tabitha deserves more.
She deserves better.
She deserves a man who will cherish her, who will take the time to court her, take her to dinner, make her feel loved. I used to be able to feel that, but my heart has turned to stone in the wake of last winter’s events.
There’s a crack or two, but not enough to let Tabitha’s light in.
So I’ll dance with her for tonight, and then I’ll move on from her until I’m healed.
The music shifts again, the beat picking up, pulsing beneath our feet. It’s almost like the universe itself is pushing me to make a choice. To pick a path.
So I make my decision. Firmly and without any wiggle room.
Tabitha deserves to find a man who will treat her like a queen, and I can’t expect her to wait around for me to get my shit together. So I’ll do the right thing.
I take a step back, disentangling myself from her. She looks startled but doesn’t protest. Instead, she just watches me with those wide, impossibly hopeful eyes that make me ache with longing.
“Tabitha,” I finally say, “I can’t give you what you need.”
Her expression changes then, from surprise to hurt to acceptance in the blink of an eye. Her small nod is the only indication that my words have sunk in.
I let go of her and leave the dance floor.
Twenty-Nine
Tabitha
The song shifts—something slower, sweeter—and I’m still moving, but it’s more like swaying now. Less dancing, more drifting. My friends are all around me, laughing and singing along, passing a bottle between them. I smile. I laugh. I pretend I’m fine.
But he’s gone.
He said the words so quietly, like they cost him something.
I can’t give you what you need.
Then he turned and walked off the dance floor, back into the shadows where he always seems to live. Like I was the one who got too close to the fire, and now he’s making sure I don’t get burned.
I reach for another sip of something—I’m not even sure what it is anymore—and it’s warm, too sweet, too fast. Everything inside me starts to feel fuzzy at the edges.
The laughter around me grows louder but somehow farther away. Like it’s all happening behind glass. I blink. My hands feel too light. My body not quite mine. The floor under my bare feet doesn’t feel solid anymore. Just soft. Slippery.
I catch sight of him again. Not in real life—just in my head. Those stormy blue eyes. That mouth. The way he looked at me like he wanted me, like he was fighting it with every breath.
I spin again, slower this time, and the stars overhead blur into long streaks of light.
“Hey,” someone says beside me. A hand touches my elbow. “You okay?”
I nod…or try to. But the motion sends a wave of dizziness crashing through me.
Maybe it’s the wine.
Maybe it’s him.
Or maybe I’m just tired of wanting someone who keeps walking away.
I smile through the spinning and mutter something about fresh air, stumbling a little as I step off the dance floor. The night feels too big now. Too wide. Like I could fall into it and not find my way back.
But I keep walking because stopping feels like surrender.