Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 90257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
One heartbeat passes and then another.
When she remains silent, a prickle of unease blooms in the pit of my belly as I steer her onto the grassy knoll so we’re no longer caught up in the flow of student traffic.
“What’s wrong?” My brows pinch together as I search her face. I really thought she’d be on board with this. She’s never been someone who likes to hide things or be less than truthful. Especially with her family. The four of them have always been tight knit.
Kind of like my own.
She draws in a steady breath before slowly forcing it out again. “Nothing’s wrong.”
There is. I can tell by the way her eyes flicker away as if she’s unable to hold my gaze.
“It feels like there’s a but coming,” I say carefully.
There’s a flash of emotion on her face before she forces her eyes to meet mine. I’m unsure what the look in them means.
Or maybe I do, and I’m hoping like hell that I’m wrong.
“I think we might be moving too fast.” Her voice trails off on a whisper.
It takes a heartbeat or two for her soft words to fully sink in so that my brain can make sense of them.
“Too fast?” I echo as if from far away. It’s like I’m staring at her through a long tunnel. Where we used to feel so close, she’s nothing more than a distant speck on the horizon.
“Yeah. I think this relationship is moving a bit too quickly and we should take a step back. A little space will do us both some good.”
“Space?” I wince as I echo another word.
Sorrow fills her eyes as she jerks her head into a tight nod. “With finals coming up, I need to focus. I received a low B on one of my tests and that’s never happened before. This is such an important year. I don’t want to see anything get in the way of either of us reaching our goals, you know?”
What I hear is that Juliette doesn’t feel the same way as I do. If she did, there’s no way in hell she’d be willing to take a step back from our relationship or spend any time apart.
“I guess,” I mutter, feeling like a humongous asshat.
She reaches out and wraps her fingers around mine. “It’s not what I want, but I think it’s what we both need. I don’t want either of us to have regrets.”
I hear what she’s saying loud and clear. She needs to focus on what’s important.
FYI—that’s not me.
Even though it feels impossible to clear the thick emotion clogging my throat, I force myself to say, “I know how much med school means to you, and I don’t want to get in the way of that.”
“And I don’t want to derail hockey or your dreams of playing in the NHL,” she says softly, blinking away the tears that sting her eyes, making them look shiny in the sunlight.
I drag a hand through my hair and glance away, staring at the red brick building that looms in the distance. When I caught sight of Juliette ten minutes ago, I never imagined this was how our conversation would play out. It’s so damn tempting to argue. To tell her that we can find a way to balance everything in our lives.
We don’t have to let this go.
Or walk away.
But…
I refuse to do anything that will jeopardize her future. She’s worked too hard to get where she is. Whatever her dreams are, I want her to achieve them.
Whether they include me or not.
That’s the bitch of it, right?
Only now do I understand that loving someone means putting their wants and needs ahead of your own.
“Okay.”
I force my gaze back to hers. There’s so much heartbreak swirling through her dark depths.
I don’t understand it.
She’s the one breaking up with me.
Not the other way around.
With our gazes locked, I force myself to take a step away. Just as I’m about to take another, my hand snakes out and my fingers wrap around her wrist before hauling her into my arms. As soon as my lips crash onto hers, she opens enough for my tongue to slip inside and tangle with her own. The sweet taste of her floods my senses and pounds through my veins.
How am I going to go without this for the rest of my life?
Part of me expects her to fight the intimate embrace, but that doesn’t happen. Instead, she clings to me as if she’s in just as much pain as I am.
Again, it makes absolutely no sense.
I have no idea how long we kiss.
Minutes?
Hours?
All I know is that it’s not enough.
It’ll never be enough.
It takes every ounce of self-control to sever the physical connection. Instead of pulling away completely, I rest my forehead against hers and stare into her eyes. Before she can tell me to back off or how sorry she is about the breakup, I swing around and stalk away without a second look.