Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
None of that mattered. I was spending too much time dissecting my feelings for Forge. It didn’t make a difference what they were. He was in my life for a short time.
Picking up a pen, I sat down to write him back.
Calvin,
I paused, letting the pen hover over the page. When I had written about seeing Forge naked, I’d thought it was funny. Now, I wasn’t feeling it.
He opened his bedroom door, not realizing I was walking by, and apparently, he had slept naked and forgotten he wasn’t clothed. Misunderstanding. I was a little embarrassed, but I got over it. You know how awkward I can be about things like that.
I am not locking myself away. I promise. I go outside. They have a lovely backyard, and I do intend to enjoy the pool. It’s heated, so that will be nice. Don’t worry about me.
Tell me about things on set. Anything new? Still replacing me with the new girl, Koralee is it? She doesn’t get BFF position. That is mine. Forever. She doesn’t want to face my wrath.
On a more somber note, Oz was able to get a video of my parents’ funeral. But I don’t think I can watch it. At least not alone. Or with someone other than you. I’m going to wait until you can visit. Not rushing you, but do you have any idea when that might be?
I paused and reread what I’d written. I didn’t know what else to say. I wanted to talk to Calvin, hear his voice, not write him.
Love,
Your one and only best friend
Twenty-One
Forge
“You seen Elsie?” Oz asked.
No. I hadn’t seen her in two days, and that had been on purpose. My thoughts seemed to always go to her, and it was bothering me. But the last two days, no matter how much shit I had thrown myself into to keep busy, she’d seemed to be implanted in my head. Taunting me. Reminding me how she made me feel better, like I could breathe deeper around her. I didn’t stay in the darkness. I found reasons to laugh. Watching the games at Gathe’s had sucked. Not just because Elsie had made the job easier, but she had made it enjoyable.
“No,” I muttered while watching the espresso machine brew my morning cup.
“I’ve got to head out early. Ransom needs some help with a delivery,” he told me, as if I gave a shit. “Could you make sure she gets this?”
I glanced back over my shoulder to see him place an envelope on the bar.
“What is it?”
“A letter from Calvin. What the fuck else would it be?” he replied, then turned to walk out of the kitchen.
I studied the envelope, wondering if it was sealed. Not that it was my business. But it wouldn’t be the first one I’d read. Before though, I hadn’t known her, we hadn’t been … friends, I hadn’t cared.
My conscience was heavy as I walked over to the bar. Oz’s footsteps faded down the hallway.
I picked it up and flipped it over. Not sealed. Just tucked in.
I shouldn’t read it.
But I hadn’t talked to her in two days.
Was she okay? Would Calvin know if she wasn’t?
Fuck it.
Pulling out the flap, I slipped the paper out and unfolded it.
Elsie,
No one will ever replace you. Don’t start that shit. You will forever be my best friend. That title was locked down a long time ago.
As for coming to visit, I’ll make it work sooner than anticipated. You need to watch the video, and I’ll be there, holding your hand. I am making it my priority. Give me a week to figure things out here, and I’ll get to you. I promise.
Things on set are good. I’m enjoying every day. But it would be better if you were here. Things are always better with you.
Sorry this is another short one, but it’s after midnight, and I have to be up at six again. I’ll get you a longer letter soon. Until then try not to see any more of my family members naked. ;)
Love ya,
Calvin
I felt my teeth grinding as I folded the paper back the way it had been. She wanted Calvin with her to watch her parents’ funeral, and I should understand that. The anger pulsing through me was unexpected and bothersome. I was … I was jealous. Fuck that. Why? He was her best friend. She’d known him most of her life. She trusted him. He had known her parents. He had known her before she’d been shattered.
None of that made me feel better.
Shoving the letter back into the envelope, I left my espresso, no longer wanting it, and headed into the hallway. Two days, and I wasn’t better, being away from her. I was worse. She made me feel better. So what? Was that so fucking bad? I was making this an issue when there wasn’t one.