Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 107673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 538(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
In my peripherals, I caught the passenger flipping me off, but the driver held my attention. I felt his concentration as strongly as my own.
The darkness and fear in my life faded.
My entire body cinched tight, my muscles tensed and strained. A warm heat spread through me like lava from an erupting volcano.
The few seconds felt like an hour as I stared at him. Whoever he was, he was stunningly beautiful, like a sculpture crafted by Michelangelo. Maybe the best-looking guy I’d ever seen. Male model material. I’d never experienced anything like my reaction to him before.
I rolled past the Ferrari, lost to his world.
The sports car took off. Not with the peel out that I might’ve tried to execute if driving that car, instead at a normal speed. All I could do was turn my head to watch the car drive away.
The sudden stop of my bicycle shocked me. I lurched forward, catapulting me over the handlebars. Unfortunately, the back wheel followed me when my legs tangled in the bike’s frame.
The world sling-shotted back in place as my years of being tackled had me instinctively preparing for the fall. I ducked and rolled, landing in a skid on the concrete sidewalk. My stop came by way of the small bushes lining the path in front of The Pizza Box.
With that strange standstill-in-time moment extinguished, I opened my eyes and assessed my body for injury. When it appeared I might not have broken any bones, the pain of the road rash lit the left side of my body on fire.
I shouldn’t be embarrassed, but I was. In a hopefully fluid motion, I rolled to my feet. From the way I fell, my bike had landed on a grassy patch on the other side of the bushes.
“You good?” I glanced over my shoulder to see Josh Bigly in a parking spot in front of the restaurant with his truck window rolled down.
I gave a thumbs-up and bent to pick up my ball cap that had fallen off. “I think so,” I yelled.
In a practiced move, I scooped my hair off my forehead and pulled the cap down backward over my head. Then I swiped at the dirt and debris on my shirt and shorts. The crunch of the grass made me look in the direction of my bike to see Josh walking toward me.
“You got scraped up pretty good there,” Josh said, nodding toward my arm then reaching for my bike. He brought it up. Remarkably, it appeared okay. The front tire was flat, but I could fix that.
“Yeah.” A drop of blood landed on the concrete.
I lifted my arm and knocked the small rocks and dirt from the skin. The distinct sound of my mom’s high heel shoes clicking quickly across the parking lot had me groaning inwardly. If she lay witness to my accident, I might not ever be allowed to ride again.
“I’m Josh. Don’t know if you remember me. My father owns this restaurant,” Josh explained, pressing his thumb in the front tire, confirming it was flat.
“I remember you.” The blood picked up speed and dripped again, another drop followed. I didn’t know what to do so I placed my hand tightly over the scrapes, trying to stop the bleeding. I hiked a leg over the bushes to be on the same side as Josh and my bike.
Josh and I had spent quite a bit of time fishing, but the same thing happened with him that happened to Chae. He was older than me, doing what older kids do. Last time I remembered seeing him, he was a shortish, overweight, and stocky kid. He’d changed. Tall and broad with a face that looked made to smile as he did right now.
“You’ve grown.”
“That’s everybody’s reaction. I heard you were back in town. For good this time,” Josh said and started toward the front door of the pizzeria, my bike in hand. “We have a first-aid kit inside.”
“Honey, what happened?” my mother asked, her arms crossing over her chest, her signature sign of worry. I could tell she wanted to reach out to me and take care of my injuries, but I’d broken her of that habit years ago. The embarrassment of the fall didn’t need my mom’s overprotective brand of care mixed in. That needed to be done in private where I’d gladly let her cuddle me.
“The curb came out of nowhere and tripped him up,” Josh said good-naturedly. “Probably that shiny red Ferrari’s fault. That thing was badass.” My mom gave Josh a hard stare at the use of profanity. Josh grinned bigger. He looked like a big ole teddy bear. “Sorry, Mrs. Brooks.”
“Mom, remember Josh Bigly? That’s him.”
Maybe the only thing that could have taken her worry off my fall was her astonishment when she took a closer look at Josh. Her expressions ranged from uncertainty to shock in a matter of a few seconds.