Total pages in book: 34
Estimated words: 32155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 161(@200wpm)___ 129(@250wpm)___ 107(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 161(@200wpm)___ 129(@250wpm)___ 107(@300wpm)
He follows me to the kitchen, a sunny room with stainless appliances and light-wood cabinets. He turns the chair around and straddles it while I pick out two bottles.
Why not join him?
A few minutes later, we are each enjoying a cold brew. “Are you looking forward to getting back to work?” he asks.
I settle into the chair across from him. “You have no idea how much! I miss being busy.” I wrap my hands around the bottle, cold with condensation.
“Is that all you miss?” he asks, tipping the bottle back so he can take a long sip.
I narrow my gaze, annoyed he won’t just be direct with her. “Why don’t you just say what you mean?”
Tate places the beer on the Formica table. “Do you miss Shane?” He meets my gaze with his direct one.
Tate isn’t that much older, but he’s always been able to pry a secret out of me, and on his last visit, I admitted something had happened between his best friend and me. I’ll never tell him details, and he won’t want to know, but he wasn’t surprised we got together in some way.
“What makes you say that?” I ask, being deliberately dense.
He rolls his eyes. “Apart from the fact that I hear it in your voice, I know you. You’ve had a thing for Shane for years.” Before I can argue, he holds up a hand. “And vice versa. I saw it in high school when you tutored him, and more recently, I could tell by the way he’d ask about you…and you’d avoid questioning me about him.”
I frown. “Who knew I was obvious?” I mutter.
“Only to someone who loves you…and knows you both well.”
I pause for a small sip of beer, savoring the malty taste. “It was a casual thing,” I murmur, lying to myself…as well as to him.
“Was it?”
I lower the bottle to the table. “It had to be,” I whisper.
“Why?”
Aside from the fact that I’ve never had a serious relationship? That I am afraid of losing people she loved? “I have no time in my life for someone who needs my attention.” I am a workaholic and enjoy that aspect of my life.
Tate shrugs. “Neither does he. And yet I have a hunch he’d be happy to spend what little free time he does have with you.”
I swallow hard. “Did Shane actually say that?” I hate the hope in my voice.
Tate laughs at my obvious interest. “He didn’t have to. He’s been short-tempered and a pain in the ass. Very unlike himself. Just like you’ve been down. Unlike yourself.”
“I’ve been out of work,” I argue as my lame excuse. I don’t even believe it myself.
He groans. “You two getting together has been a long time coming. You’ve always liked him. God knows I don’t want specifics about your time with him, but you haven’t been yourself since you came home. Don’t you think you owe it to yourself to find out if you two could actually be a couple?”
Shane and me. A couple?
I really haven’t given it any thought, have pushed all possibilities out of my mind, because aside from the obvious obstacles—our busy lives and jobs—I have a deep, ingrained fear of loss.
“What if something happens to him on the job? If he gets hurt or, God forbid, killed?” I ask, my throat feeling heavy at the prospect.
“Hey.” He reaches across the table and grabs my hand. “We lost Mom and Dad, but we have each other. And you can’t live every day waiting to lose the people you care about,” he says, understanding like I knew he would. “Besides, what if something happened and you two weren’t together? Wouldn’t you regret not taking advantage of the time you could have had?”
I purse my lips in a pout. “Just when did you get so smart?” I ask my big brother.
He snickers at the question. “I’ve always been intelligent. You just never liked to give me credit. So. Are you going to take my advice and go for it?” he asks.
I don’t know if it is as simple as he makes it out to be. I’ll have to be the one to approach Shane and risk putting my heart out there for him to crush if he doesn’t want the same thing.
I shiver at the very scary prospect. But isn’t it scarier to really let him go?
“I’ll think about it,” I promise, knowing I won’t be able to concentrate on anything else.
* * *
Shane
My mood matches my appearance. Foul. I am exhausted since wrapping up my latest case last night and spending hours calming a hysterical client. All I want to do is go home, shower, crawl into bed, and not come out for a solid week. Because my mood has been shit long before this past assignment. Since walking out of Talia’s hospital cubicle, to be exact. But who is counting?