Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 79440 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79440 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
“You gotta stay in the present, man. You can’t let all the shit in the past cloud what could be your future,” Sterling tells me.
“What do you all think about this?” I ask, making eye contact with each of them. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“We want what you want,” Merrick speaks up. “Look, I’ve watched these assholes—” He grins. “—fall in love, and after all the shit Dad used to preach to us growing up, we’re all wise enough to understand, you don’t get to choose who you love.”
“It’s going to take work. It might take even more time, but if it’s meant to be, it will be,” Archer says.
“Mer’s right. We’re with you.” Orrin nods.
“And hey, we’ve got alcohol. Legally.” Maverick grins. “You need a breather. You know how to find us. We can initiate that phone tree shit or the group chat, and we’re all there. We got you, brother.”
Who would have thought my little brother, the jokester, was so insightful? “I’m holding you all to that.”
They all voice their agreement in some form or another. I hate this, but I fucking love these guys.
“Now,” I say, laying a hand on Archer’s shoulder. “You have a wife to get back to, and we have to celebrate our new sister and the fact that another one bites the dust.”
Laughter surrounds me as we make our way back to the reception.
I don’t know what’s in my future. I hope that Jordyn and I can figure this out, but I meant what I said. I can’t be the only one fighting for us. A year ago, maybe, but so much time has passed that I need to see it. I need to feel it and remember that connection. I need to know it’s not just something I created in my mind.
CHAPTER TWO
Jordyn
Alone in my hotel room, I grip my phone, willing it to ring. My parents think I’m flying home on Monday. That flight is still booked.
I won’t be on it.
It’s risky. Reaching out to him. But it’s something I knew I had to do. I’ve been evasive long enough. He needs to know why I left. I should have told him the truth a long time ago, but I was afraid. I’m still afraid, but now that there’s a chance I can run into him, he needs to know that we can’t be together. As soon as my flight landed, I texted him. It took some time, but he finally replied. Tapping on the screen, I pull up his message, reading our exchange.
Me: I’m back home. In Atlanta. I wanted you to hear it from me.
Four long, torturous hours later, he finally replied. I’ve paced the floor so many times, I’m surprised the carpet in my room isn’t worn.
Ryder: Archer got married today.
Me: Oh, I didn’t realize.
Ryder: It’s not like communication has been flowing between the two of us.
Ryder: I didn’t even know you were finally coming home.
Me: I’m sorry. It’s complicated.
Ryder: Right. Complicated.
Me: Can we talk?
Ryder: You’re ready for that? Because I don’t want you to spin me some tale. I want answers.
Me: I want to give them to you.
Ryder: Time and place?
I replied with my hotel and room number. He wrote back with a promise to call when he got to the hotel. I’ve been clutching my phone ever since. I don’t know where the wedding was held, so I don’t know how far away he was. I should have asked, but with the way my hands shook during the exchange, I’m lucky I responded at all.
I’ve been dreading this day. Telling him why I really left. I know Ryder, the man I love. Yes, love, Ryder Kincaid isn’t a man you fall out of love with. I know him, and I know he’s going to want to fight against this, but I won’t let him.
Finally, my phone rings, causing me to jump. I fumble with the phone before hitting the answer button. “Hi.”
“I’m here.” His voice is soft and sexy, just as I remember. It’s been far too long since I’ve laid eyes on him, and that’s about to change. Two long years, and he’s about to be here within reaching distance.
“I’m in my room,” I say, flopping down on the bed. The exhaustion of what’s about to happen weighs down on me.
“I’m on my way up.”
“I’ll see you soon.”
He ends the call, and I stand from the bed. My knees are wobbly, but I ignore that and stand tall as I glance in the mirror. I’ve lost weight that I didn’t need to lose since I’ve been gone. I guess that happens when you’re forced to give up the love of your life. I’ve been miserable without him.
Wiping my sweaty palms on my jeans, I close my eyes and say a silent prayer that I make it through this conversation. It’s going to be hard to see him and not want to wrap my arms around him and beg him to stay. I have no right to ask that of him. Besides, even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. There is too much at stake.