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)
Charlotte exhales a breath and lifts her hands, making Sierra and me both jerk surprised glances her way. “I have apologized literally a hundred times. Will I never live this down?”
Makena smirks. “Never. You will be the Woman with Deviant Zucchini Tendencies from now until the end of time.”
“What did she do with the zucchini?” Sierra demands, clearly thirsty for the gossip.
Charlotte shakes her head, pointing a warning finger at the rest of the table. “No one say a word. This story doesn’t spread any further than it has already.” She sniffs as she recrosses her legs. “Besides, Nix’s sister is here. It would be inappropriate to talk about his sex life.”
My eyes fly wide. “Nix was in on the zucchini?”
Makena and Elly giggle as Charlotte flushes an even brighter shade of pink. “I plead the fifth,” she says, as Mack adds, “It’s not a big deal, really. They were both consenting adults. We just like to mess with Charlotte. She’s usually so by-the-book, we get excited when she does something worth teasing her about.”
“Don’t worry, Char,” I assure her. “Sierra and I will keep your secret. What we know of it anyway.”
Sierra nods enthusiastically. “We totally will. And please don’t tell Torrance that I said he wasn’t capable of anything else but hockey. We do have good talks sometimes. And he’s the sweetest guy I’ve dated. I don’t want to hurt his feelings.”
We all promise not to say a word, and it feels…fine.
Sierra clearly isn’t afraid Torrance will yell at her or be angry that she said something about him behind his back. She simply doesn’t want to hurt his feelings.
I can’t help imagining the aneurysm Kai would have had if he thought I’d said a single less-than-positive word behind his back while we were a couple…
The thought actually makes me shiver.
With relief.
Kai’s been radio silent since my publicist reached out on my behalf, honoring her request that he give me space until I decide I’m ready to reach out.
If I decide I’m ready…
Right now, I’m enjoying coming back to life way too much to care about arranging a time to pick up my things at our place in Atlanta. Let him keep it all.
Or burn it.
I’m ready to rise from the ashes, to shed my old life like a snakeskin, never to be pulled on again.
And Charlotte and I are going shopping on Tuesday afternoon for new clothes.
I’ve decided I want to try a few long, flowy hippie dresses with boots on for size…
Apparently, I also want to try drunk texting on for size.
As we’re wandering the French Quarter after brunch, buzzed on mimosas and feeling no pain, I come across an old Linda Ronstadt album in a vintage record store. The record makes me think of karaoke, which makes me think of Blue, which makes me think of how electric it was to sing with him, even on that tiny stage through tinny speakers.
The connection was undeniable.
Intense.
Almost…sexual.
I pushed the feeling away at the time—I’ve always known dating anyone in Baylor’s world would be a bad idea—but now…
Well, I still know it would be a bad idea, but it also seems like a bad idea to ignore the first tingly feelings I’ve had for anyone but my sociopathic ex. Call me crazy, but leaning in to vibing with a kind, grounded man, who also happens to look incredible in jeans, doesn’t seem like the worst step a girl could take on her healing journey.
Before I can think about it too much, I pull up the number Blue gave me, just in case I needed any introductions to some of his music scene friends in the area—Found an album for your collection! Hope your trip is going well so far. Keep an eye on my brother, and let’s karaoke again sometime. It was so much fun.
I hit send, and my heart immediately starts pounding, a phenomenon I don’t fully understand until I realize that I just asked a guy out for the first time. And no, it wasn’t super forward, and I can easily pretend it was just a friendly invitation if he makes it clear he isn’t into more, but…
But I did it! And I didn’t think twice.
Maybe I’m not as broken as I thought.
Or maybe it’s the mimosa buzz still making my head floaty.
Either way, I feel good about reaching out. I feel even better when Blue texts back a few minutes later—What about next Sunday around 4? I know a place in Bywater. They have karaoke from 2-6 p.m. and an open mic after. Some of the local indie artists try out new material there. Could be a good way for you to find a New Orleans musical community.
Grinning, I reply—That sounds amazing! Yes, I’m totally in.
He sends back a thumbs up emoji, and—I’ll send you more details soon. Also, I was glad to hear you’d cancelled the rest of the tour. Sounds like it was the safest choice considering your ex’s history. I hope that isn’t overstepping.