Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 129323 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129323 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 431(@300wpm)
I nod at his statement. “She was.” Closing my eyes, I remember her, the way she used to smile down at me. How she’d sweep me into a hug that felt warm and perfect. A single hug from her could turn around a bad day. The love she had for me is what carried me through on the worst of days. I knew she was looking down on me with all the love in her heart, doing what she could to keep me safe.
She was warm and caring. So completely opposite of my dad.
“She taught me to love.”
Opening my eyes, I reach up and swipe a lone tear that fell.
He offers me a sad smile. “She must have been amazing.”
My lips remain pressed together, but I smile. “She was.” I huff, motioning toward the TV. “We used to watch old movies together all the time. It was our thing.” I shrug because I really didn’t want tonight to turn into me crying. Yet here we are.
“I remember you always liked them. Movies,” he clarifies.
“Still do. They remind me of her.” I smile, taking a cleansing breath. “She was my best friend. And then she was gone.”
He nods. “Cancer, right?”
“You remember.” I hold his stare, another tear building.
“I remember everything about you, Cass. Every word you ever told me as Pip…I remember.”
He looks at me intently, and I wonder what’s going through that head of his. Is he thinking the same crazy thoughts going through mine?
What are we doing here?
Is this more?
Do we have a future?
Do I want a future?
I do. I want nothing more than forever with him, but I’m too scared to say that. To admit it out loud. Because if he doesn’t feel the same way, it might break me in two.
It was one thing to work for him, then to sleep with him, but now I want forever, and I’m not sure he does.
“Same,” I say, hoping he can feel the truth in those words while simultaneously trying to get myself back on solid ground.
I lift my hand to run it through my hair, combing my fingers through the strands, and then place my arm down. My eyes catch on my sleeve, seeing that it’s rolled up.
Aiden’s hand reaches out, and he takes my wrist in his hold.
The rough pads of his fingers draw a circle over my scar. “What’s that from, Cass?”
I try to pull my wrist away, but he won’t let me. “It’s nothing.”
Aiden shakes his head. “It’s not nothing. That wasn’t there when I was with you at the trailer park.”
I rack my brain for something to say, something close to the truth. “I fell,” I finally say. Not a lie. But also, not the whole truth.
“Bullshit. This isn’t a simple cut. This is a deep one. Deep enough to leave a scar.”
“I said it’s nothing.” I turn away, pulling my arm from his hold, not wanting him to see through me. To expose my secret. That’s the one thing I don’t want him to know. Ever.
“Come on. Pip. Talk to me.”
My head snaps toward him, and for a reason I can’t quite place, I crack.
“Oh, now I’m Pip? This whole time, I’ve been Cass. But now what…” I cross my arms over my chest. I stand, pacing the floor.
I know I’m lashing out, but I can’t stop myself. “Everyone has secrets. Even you,” I accuse, and his head jerks back.
“So something did happen,” he says through his teeth.
“That’s not what I said.”
But it is.
This is my secret.
A secret I’ll carry to my grave.
My heart rate picks up, and suddenly, I feel like I can’t breathe.
I’m careening headfirst into a panic attack, and I need to stop it.
I can’t let him see me like this.
If I do, he’ll realize there’s more to this scar than I’m letting on. He’s already onto me.
My own guilt and shame threaten to suffocate me.
Something I can see: My hands, as they twist the cotton of my shirt.
Something I can hear: The soft hum of the dishwasher running in the other room.
Something I can smell: Aiden’s woodsy cologne; it makes my mouth water.
When my pulse slows, I take a deep breath and take a seat, looking up at him. Concern lines his face. I move closer. So close that I’m practically on his lap.
“I just don’t want to go back there,” I admit with a sigh.
His eyes are narrowed in on me. “Let me share your burden.”
My head shakes. “I’m not ready.” I’ll never be ready, but I don’t tell him that.
He takes a deep breath and nods. “Promise you’ll tell me one day.”
I don’t want to lie to him, but it’s my only chance to turn this night around. To get us back to the easygoing night I had planned.
“Pinky promise on your puck.” I wink, trying desperately to be playful.