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)
She had to have been absolutely gutted. Heartbroken.
She gave me the last of what she had, possibly the money that would allow her to eat that week, and I couldn’t even be bothered to remember those eyes. The same ones I looked into time after time.
And despite the heartbreak I likely caused, she gave up her life to help me. She kept her secret in order to be by my side. She never asked for a thing. Not even money. That was something I supposed.
That has to mean something.
She’s nothing like my mother. A user. Someone who set out to take from me.
“Ugh,” I grit through my teeth, pulling at my hair by the roots.
I slept with Pippa. My Pip.
The girl you spent years looking for.
The girl you missed with all your heart.
Yeah, she lied. But she also gave me hope. Always put me first. Loved me unconditionally.
For her to lie, she must have felt she had no choice.
Shit.
A part of me wants to forget everything. To go back to being naïve to her identity. It occurs to me that it’s not even an option not to speak to her again. I can’t do that. Having Pip back in my life is all I’ve wanted since we parted. I can’t give up on her.
I need to see her. To let her explain.
Leaping to my feet, I turn to leave and stop short.
As if conjured by my mind, she’s there. Cassidy found me.
She stands tall, trying to appear together, but I know she’s nervous. Her upper teeth are worrying her bottom lip, and her fingers tap the side of her leg.
“Penny for your thoughts?” she says, repeating words she’s spoken before. In another life. “Or in this case…60,000.”
She knows.
That’s why she’s here.
Cassidy knows that despite how it might have appeared, not a day has gone by that I haven’t thought of her and what she did for me.
“I shouldn’t have lied to you. I’m so sorry, Aiden.”
I shake my head. There’s too much to say, to talk about, to ask. “Not here.”
She nods, understanding clear on her face.
I begin to walk, and she trails close behind me. When we’re out of earshot of others, I start my questioning.
“How did you know where to find me that night?”
Had she been searching for me? Was this all planned?
“Isn’t it obvious?” she says, but I don’t look back at her. I keep walking, and she finally continues. “I saw you on TV. Heard you were in town.” She clears her throat. “My friend works at the hotel, and she let it slip you were staying there.” A strangled noise flies out of her mouth. “But please don’t get her in trouble. It’s my fault. Not hers.”
I don’t like that a member of the hotel staff told outsiders where to find me, but in this instance, I wouldn’t say anything to the hotel.
“If I’m being honest.” She pauses, and I don’t think she’s going to finish, but she presses on. “I’ve intentionally avoided anything that would remind me of you. For years.” She huffs a humorless laugh. “That night I’d been drinking and seeing your face on the screen…affected me. You actually haven’t changed at all. Not much. I’d know your face anywhere.”
There’s sadness in her voice, and it makes my stomach drop. She recognized me, but I didn’t recognize her. She doesn’t say the words, but they’re there, hanging over us.
I want to say she’s wrong, but she’s not. I haven’t changed much. Still too focused on hockey. Too focused on my own shit to realize who stood right in front of me.
These last few months with her, I feel I have grown. I’ve begun to care about things I never did before.
We walk in silence the rest of the way back to my place. Both of us seemingly lost in our own thoughts.
I wonder what’s going through her mind. Could she be stuck in the past? The days of Pippa and Slate? Or is she thinking about us, only hours ago, wrapped in each other’s arms?
Cassidy and Aiden.
It’s only a few blocks from the rink, but it feels like miles away as we trudge in silence. We’re each able to keep our space, but when we enter the elevator, the tight quarters swallow us up when the doors shut us in, and it feels like the walls close in on me. Suffocating.
The soft music filtering through the small, confined space feels taunting. Like it knows there are a million questions on my tongue. Questions I can’t ask until we’re alone.
When the elevator jerks to a stop, I allow her to go first. To lead us toward answers. I follow to the door of my penthouse apartment, dragging my feet when I should be sprinting to the truth.
I’m nervous.
Scared.
What if I don’t like what I hear?