Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 103431 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 517(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103431 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 517(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
After everything went to hell in a handbasket thanks to Atlas’s POS dad on our first—and only, until now—girls’ day, I figured Atlas would chain her to his side before letting her out of his sight, much less with me.
In all honesty, I wouldn't blame her for never wanting to go anywhere with me again. Nora might not blame me like Atlas and Ellis, but deep down, I know if I hadn’t left her alone—no, Scarlet, stop it. Today is a good day. Focus on the now.
Plus, I should have known Nora would be down. She’s stronger than her trauma and is determined not to let it—or her overbearing beast of a fiancé—hold her back.
“I’m just happy you’re here,” I tell her, honestly. “Happy we’re friends. That you asked me to be your maid of honor.”
“Oh my god,” Nora laughs. “When did you turn into such a sap?”
“You hush,” I warn, even though we both know I’m all talk. “Seriously though, lunch.”
I am firmly leaving the ball in her court, because the last thing I want to do is push her too far out of her comfort zone.
Today is supposed to be happy and stress-free. God knows if it isn’t, Atlas might actually kill me.
“You know…” she murmurs, fidgeting with the bottle of glittery champagne nail polish. “A sandwich sounds really good.”
“I know just the place.” I grab my phone and look up Maryanne’s, my favorite deli. “I just sent you their website.”
“Thank you.” She taps on her screen as she settles back into the chair and hits the massage button while our nail techs get to work. “You always know the best places.”
“I’ve gotta be good for something,” I say, injecting false cheer into my voice.
“Don’t talk about my friend like that,” Nora warns, and I smile.
Atlas may have been all wrong for me, but he’s perfect for her. The way he steadily built her confidence is truly a thing of beauty. I can only hope to find a love half as great for myself one day.
“Speaking of friends, when do I get to meet your school friends?”
She tilts her head to the side as she studies me. “Y-you want to meet them?”
“Duh!” I roll my eyes at her cluelessness. “I promise to be on my best behavior and to make myself as likeable as—”
“You are likeable, Scar. Jesus.”
Shame lights me up from the inside out. “Listen, I get it. I’m a… small-doses friend. I can be a lot and sometimes people… don’t like that.”
She screws her eyes closed and sucks in a calming breath, holding it before blowing it out. “Eff those people. You are a delight and shouldn’t ever shrink yourself for other people.”
“Do you really mean that?” I ask, furiously blinking back the tears burning the backs of my eyes. I refuse to cry in a fucking nail salon, full of strangers. Talk about pathetic.
“Yes, oh my god, of course I do. Let’s plan a girls’ night out soon.”
“Like a… bachelorette party?” I ask, shimmying my shoulders, only to get a death stare from my nail tech. “Sorry,” I whisper, holding statue still.
“Hold on,” Nora laughs. “I don’t know about all that.”
“Chill, I’m not going to take you to a strip club. I’ll even guarantee no penis paraphernalia if you agree.”
She hesitates, but only for a moment. “Fine. We can figure out a date at family dinner.”
I beam at her and then frown. Family dinner. I shudder at the thought. But, Nora’s an optimist, and she’s determined for us to all be a big, happy family. Atlas is so wrapped around her finger, he’d agree to anything. Hell, Ellis, too.
Even me…
What a lovely realization.
“Absolutely not,” Nora says emphatically when I hold up a stunning pair of satin heels. “I would literally die if I tried to walk in those. And dying on my wedding day is not on my to-do list.”
“But we could dye them to match—”
“Unless you can saw off the heel, it’s a no.” She runs her fingers along a pair of velvet flats. “You should try them though.”
“I just might.” I turn to the sales associate hovering near us. “Do you have these in a seven?”
“And these in a six-and-a-half?” Nora says, sheepishly, holding the shoe out toward her.
“Let me check,” she says, beelining for the backroom.
“So,” I say, dragging out the word, as I plop down onto one of the many try-on benches. “I sort of have something to tell you.”
She whips her gaze to mine before settling down next to me. “Spill.”
I wring my hands together, wondering just how much I should divulge. I hate the idea of keeping things from her, but the thought of worrying her is fifty times worse. “I've been getting… notes.”
“What kind of notes?” She tilts her head to the side, her lips turning down ever so slightly.