Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 92972 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92972 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
But maybe there’s a reason I picked a man like Teddy the first time around. Maybe there’s a reason I haven’t been looking too hard for someone to replace him. Maybe the thought of being truly, deeply, wildly, vulnerably in love scares the shit out of me.
My inner control freak is certainly spiraling as we slip out of the storage room and make our way back down the hall.
When we reach the main part of the bar, there’s none of the familiar noise or chaos to lose myself in. There’s just the sweetest voice I’ve ever heard, floating above awed silence, singing mournfully about “eyes that have never seen what mattered.”
My gaze finds the small stage, where Beatrice stands beside Blue, gazing up at him as she finishes a verse of one of my dad’s favorite duets. He always said the song reminded him of Mom, of how loving her always made sense, no matter how crazy or hard things got.
As a kid, I didn’t get it.
And I’ve never liked this song.
I told myself it was because it was cheesy and old-fashioned, but as Blue’s rich baritone wraps around Beatrice’s crystalline soprano like a lover, I suspect that I was lying to myself about that, too.
Maybe I didn’t like this song because, deep down, I didn’t think I’d ever find a love like this.
A love that feels like the only thing I’ll ever need…
But as I stand here, tears rising in my eyes again, I can’t deny how much I want that. I’m beaten and battered, just like the people in the song, but I’m not broken. I still have a heart so full of love and hope, and I want someone to share it with. I want to stand naked in my cheesy, old-fashioned longing, to drop the “always on the ball” mask and confess that there are still so many things I don’t understand.
Things that, as I age, I’m beginning to think I’ll never understand.
I want to be honest. Scary honest. Ugly honest, and I want someone to love me anyway, even when I’m just…me. Just secretly confused, flawed, still faking-it-until-I-make-it Charlotte.
I turn to look at Nix, expecting him to be watching his sister, but he’s not.
He’s looking at me.
Our gazes lock and hold, and for a moment, it’s like looking in a mirror. I’ve been telling myself we’re so different, but maybe we’re actually the same. Just two people who thought they’d never find what they were looking for, working up the strength to seize the opportunity the universe has unexpectedly tossed in our laps.
By the time the song ends, the entire bar is still, silent.
Even the bartenders.
Even the bachelorette party.
And I swear, one of the bikers by the pool table wipes away a tear from his cheek with the back of his hand before he starts to applaud.
Nix and I join in, clapping hard and long, but we don’t cheer.
No one else does, either. I suspect it might have something to do with the lump in our collective throats.
Mine takes a long time to dissolve.
It isn’t until Sierra takes the stage, blushing as she mutters, “Well, this is going to feel silly after something like that, but…here goes nothing,” and launches into a perky version of “It’s Raining Men,” that I finally trust myself to turn to Nix.
“Think you’ll be ready to leave soon?” I ask. When he nods, I add, “And maybe dropping Beatrice at your apartment before we head back to my place to talk?”
He nods again, slow and steady, but he doesn’t speak.
Maybe he’s afraid to break the spell.
Maybe he’s right to be afraid.
But as he takes my hand, leading me back to our friends, where we offer our untouched Trash Pandas to Parker and Makena, it feels like something’s shifted between us. We’re moving into something new, something I may come to regret every bit as much as I regret all the time I wasted chasing after Teddy, but I don’t think so.
No, if this crashes and burns, it’s going to hurt a lot more than anything Teddy ever put me through.
It might, in fact, be the nail in my “still hopeful for happily ever after” coffin.
Or the only thing you need to know, a hopeful voice whispers in my head.
It’s that voice I cling to as we gather our things and say our goodbyes, heading out into a cool autumn night that suddenly feels electric with possibility.
Fifteen
NIX
Ican’t shake the feeling that everything’s about to change.
Absolutely everything.
The certainty pulses through my veins, soft and insistent, as I navigate the familiar route from my apartment to Charlotte’s place in the Garden District.
Bea’s probably already dead to the world in my guest room, and she always sleeps with noise-cancelling headphones on, but the need to be alone with Charlotte—completely alone—was too strong to deny.
And Bea certainly didn’t seem to mind.