Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 31102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 156(@200wpm)___ 124(@250wpm)___ 104(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31102 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 156(@200wpm)___ 124(@250wpm)___ 104(@300wpm)
She cried harder after he spoke. Pulling him into a hug, she held him for several moments, smoothing her hand up and down his back, and just showing him without words that she loved him and he was important to her. “You’re so wrong about that. You are worth it, Ace. You’re worth so much.” Pulling away, she got to her feet and helped him to stand. She pulled him toward her bed, and once she was lying down and he was in front of her, his back to her chest, she wrapped her arms around him.
“It feels so good having you hold me, Poppy,” he said softly.
“It feels good having you close, too, Ace.”
He took her hands in one of his, kept them close to his chest, right over his heart, and exhaled. She smiled, but it was a sad, watery one. Holding him tighter, she rested her head against his back, closed her eyes, and wished like hell things were different. She wanted desperately to be a better friend to him, because he deserved so much better than she was able to give him, so much more than she had given to him.
Six years later
Moving toward Ace’s small apartment, Lauren felt her worry for him fill her to the point she felt sick. The last call she’d gotten from him was at three this morning, but she hadn’t gotten it until just a little bit ago, when she’d woken up. She knocked on the door, didn’t hear any moving on the other side, and tried the handle. Of course it turned from being left unlocked, because Ace just didn’t care, not even about himself.
At only nineteen Ace already had his own place, albeit a pretty shitty, rundown apartment that was cheap and dirty. She hated him living here, hated that after all that he’d been through this was where he was. But right now she couldn’t do anything but be there for him as a friend. She still lived with her family, was working on her associate degree to help run her mother’s bookstore in town, and once she had everything settled she could help him out more.
That was if he even wanted her help.
He seemed to push her away more times than not anymore, especially after they graduated and she started college. She knew he thought he wasn’t any good for her, that his past put this wall between them. He was so wrong.
She loved him like a brother—well, more than that, if she were being honest, but he was too damaged, too broken, and she knew he wouldn’t welcome that kind of love. His father had ruined that for him, maybe not forever, but for the unforeseeable future.
Lauren made her way further into the house, and stepped over the empty beer bottles, her heart sinking at the sight. This was her friend, her best friend, and the only person she’d ever truly felt close with. Ever since she’d seen him that first day he’d shown up at their high school, she’d felt connected to him. Ace was not the type of boy who showed his emotions back then, and he was the same way now. But even though he was harder, edgier, and had this heavy weight that always seemed to surround him, she just wanted to … protect him.
The bedroom door was closed, and she just knew what she’d see on the other side, but she had to make sure he was okay. He was on a path of self-destruction, and it seemed like nothing would ever help him climb out of that pit.
Opening the door, she took in the scene. He was in the center of his small bed, the sheets pooled around the bottom of the mattress, and Ace lay there naked. He was breathing, thank God, and was alone, another thankful thought in her head. She knew he brought women home, but she also knew it wasn’t just about sex for him.
It was about forgetting his past, a dark past he’d shared with her before, when they’d gotten close, so close she knew her heart would break in two if she lost him. But she also didn’t want him to be lonely, and for that she felt like a failure to him.
Moving further into the room she grabbed the blanket from the bottom of the bed. She glanced at his body, all hard muscles, tattoos lining his flesh, and the scars that he tried to hide. But no amount of ink would get rid of his scars on the inside or outside. She covered him with the sheets, making him decent and giving him some privacy.
He groaned and rolled onto his side, facing her. The scent of booze came from him in a strong gust. He was most likely still drunk, probably only having gone to bed a short time ago.