Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 102411 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102411 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 512(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
I’m winding myself up. My ribs ache a little with each word, but I need to say this through the pain. “I’m so glad somebody gets it.”
She ruffles my hair again, nodding like she truly sees me this time. It’s a relief—finally talking to someone besides my dog. It feels like something in me is loosening. The tension, maybe.
She sighs. “But sweetheart. That’s not what I meant.”
My brow knits. “What did you mean, then?”
“What I meant is—you’re afraid of getting your heart broken. You’re afraid of being replaced. And you’re terrified of truly opening up to another person, like you did with Brittany,” she says, leveling me with a sharp but thoughtful stare. “Because what if they leave you? That’s what distracted you. That’s what scared the living hell out of you.”
My mouth opens, but then I snap it shut. I should tell her she’s wrong. But the thing is—she’s not.
She’s completely right, and I didn’t even see the truth that was right in front of my eyes.
No, man. You did. You were just afraid.
After I draw a soldiering breath, I turn to her and shrug, helpless.
“Did you know I have no idea how to fix things?” I look down. Then I force myself to say the hardest part, “Or if I even can.”
35
I’D EAT THEM TOO
SKYLAR
I’m finally ready to drag myself out of the house. I can’t hide any longer. And really, I don’t want to.
Maybe Ford didn’t put me first, but I fully intend to put me first. That includes my business. I put on the blazer I bought for my first meeting with him, grab the tote I nabbed that day too, and head to the door so I can meet with a new client—one I gained from the gala. A woman named Carmen Santorini wants me to redo her home office with an upcycled Gilded Age vibe.
I’m just a little excited.
I’ll be early, but that’s okay. I’ll grab a coffee and be ready when she is. Then, I’ll catch a ride with my friends to Ford’s parents’ house for the podcast where we do the “after.” That won’t be easy, but my friends will be there, so I know I can handle it.
As I’m heading to the door, though, my phone buzzes with a text. A flurry of hope ignites in me. Maybe it’s Ford. But that’s too much to ask for. He hasn’t reached out since the night he dumped me. I haven’t seen him either, besides that day when he emerged from a Lyft. I’ve only texted to confirm I’d be doing the live stream at his mom’s house to show how it looks after its makeover—and that was a group text with him and his mother. He didn’t reply.
I toggle over to my messages as mid-morning sun streaks through the living room window.
Adam: My flight landed early! Literally just slid into a car now. Is the dog bed ready?
Skylar: Yup! I left out a bowl of water next to it and some kibble too.
I check the time again. Well, I guess I’ll wait here.
Thirty minutes later, Adam arrives, and I fly out the door, then race down the porch steps to tackle-hug him the second he emerges from the car. I didn’t realize how much I needed to see him until right now, and I don’t let go. Even if things didn’t work out with Ford, I’m so glad I met him and had a brief and beautiful love affair—thanks to my brother, who made it possible by letting me live here.
“Whoa. Everything okay?” Adam asks when I break the hug.
I frown, my eyes welling with tears. “I fell for your neighbor. I’m sorry…but I’m also not sorry.”
With a protective gaze, he glances next door, then cups my elbow and ushers me inside, passing a brown paper bag on the front porch. I didn’t notice that earlier, but I’ll grab it when I leave in a bit.
Inside, his green eyes—a similar shade to mine, and bright behind his glasses—hold mine with concern. “Is it the hockey player?”
“Yes,” I say through tears. But once we sit on the couch, Adam reaches for a tissue from the table and offers it to me. I take it as Simon hurls himself into Adam’s lap. Adam pets the shameless boy, who offers his belly to my brother.
I dab at my eyes. “I started seeing him, even though you said it was a bad idea. But I promise I won’t make things awkward as neighbors. I’ll be civilized. You have my word.”
Adam’s expression is soft, his voice gentle as he says, “Don’t worry about it. All I care about is if you’re okay. Are you? And do I need to beat up this jerk?”
The prospect of Adam taking on the burly, sturdy Ford is amusing but unnecessary. “No. He was worried he was distracted by…me,” I say, then I blurt out the whole sad story. But when I’m done, I add, “But it’s fine. I’m moving on. I have my friends, and my dog, and you and Mom and Dad. Everything is fine.”