Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 84952 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84952 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
“It wasn’t that hard,” I say, turning back around. “Really.”
Her face is lit up like the icicle lights dripping from everything nailed down.
“Let’s go find my aunt Siggy.” She reaches up and runs her hand through her hair.
I can’t help but notice the bracelet I bought her on her wrist. That feels just as good as Howard’s niceties.
“Let’s go find her,” I say.
Twenty-One
Larissa
“Where are you going?” Boone asks. “Fifteen minutes until the ball drops.”
He points at a big projection screen hung in the dining room where the news is covering Times Square.
It’s a tradition in the Mason family to all watch the ball drop together. It’s something you just can’t miss. And I don’t want to miss it except I can’t find my man.
“Have you seen Hollis?” I ask him. “I haven’t seen him in a half hour or so.”
Boone smiles. “The last time I saw him, he was sitting at the piano upstairs with Coy.”
“Really?”
He nods.
I make my way to the stairs. After avoiding a spilled drink, I finally make it to the top. Despite the music playing overhead, I can hear the faint notes of a piano coming from the library.
I pad down the hallway and peek around the corner. And, just as Boone said, Coy and Hollis sit at Siggy’s baby grand piano.
“What about this?” Coy says. He presses the keys in quick succession and sings a refrain that isn’t quite finished.
“Hey,” I say once he stops playing. “It’s almost ball drop time.”
Hollis’s eyes find mine. They’re so alert and … happy.
My heart fills, and I give him a smile. When it’s returned, I want to run to him and wrap myself around him.
“Your boy here has a great ear,” Coy says. “I’ve been fucking around with this melody for a month now, and Hollis just sat down and fixed it up in ten minutes.” He looks at Hollis. “What the fuck, man?”
Hollis shrugs it off like he does everything.
I march across the room and rest my arms over his shoulders. “He’s pretty great,” I say, setting my chin on top of his head.
Coy nods his head in agreement. “I’m gonna go get a beer and find my mom. She’ll have my ass if I come home and don’t watch the ball with her.” He gets to his feet. “I’m not joking, Hollis—we need to have a writing session soon.”
“Yeah. Anytime,” he says as if he’s in disbelief.
Coy flashes me a smile before he disappears around the corner.
“So,” I say, sitting next to him on the piano bench. “Sounds like you’ve had a productive night.”
He laughs, running a hand down his face. “I can’t believe I just helped Kelvin McCoy write a song. I mean, we didn’t finish it, but he actually took my fucking suggestions.”
“Because you’re talented.”
He snorts. “I think he must be drunk.”
“Hollis,” I say. “Stop. You never give yourself any credit.”
“It’s just … hard to believe.”
“Why? Why is it any harder to believe that you could help Coy than some random dude in Los Angeles?”
He watches me carefully, the shine of the moment still there. “Because I’m me. I don’t know what I’m doing, Riss. I just gave him my opinion.”
“So it comes more naturally to you. It’s awesome. Another hidden talent you can use for the next ambush question-and-answer session,” I joke.
He laughs, pulling me into his side. He kisses the top of my head.
“I like this with you,” he says softly. “Do you think that’s okay?”
“I think that’s very okay. That makes me happy.”
He kisses my head again. This time, I feel his smile pressed against it too.
“You know that it’s okay to have hope, right?” I ask him. “It’s okay to want to have things … and people … in your life.”
I say it gently because I don’t want to startle him and make him retreat behind his shield. This vulnerable side of him—or the fact that he’s allowing himself to show it—is new. And I don’t think he’s quite sure how to manage it.
“That’s what River told me,” he says softly.
“I think I like River.”
“You would. He’s a good guy. He’d give you the shirt off his back.”
I giggle. “I’d much rather have the shirt off yours if I get to see those abs again.”
He snorts and shakes his head. “What am I going to do with you?”
“I have suggestions.”
He takes my hand and gets to his feet. I stand too.
I look up into his face. Instead of seeing a wall that’s keeping me out, I think I get a glimpse behind the curtain. His features are a little softer and his gaze not quite as severe. His touch is a little sweeter as he runs a hand down my cheek.
My breathing gets shallow as I try to remember not to hold it in.
“Things feel different when I’m with you,” he whispers. “It’s the craziest shit ever.”