Total pages in book: 156
Estimated words: 142833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Later, my father and my grandmother bring out a huge cake blazing with candles and my dad sings a rocked out version of Happy Birthday to me like he does every year. A few people have left cards and gifts for me, but thankfully my father doesn't make me open them all in front of everyone like I'm five. I'd rather open them in private and then send hand-written thank you cards to everyone.
As it gets late our guests start to filter out, most of them coming to hug me and wish me happy birthday before they leave. I've been so caught up talking to everyone that I didn't get a chance to thank Toren for playing guitar for me. I walk around the back yard trying to find him, and finally walk around to the front to see if his truck or bike is still here, and my heart takes a nosedive when I see him standing by his truck with Sydni. I try to look away, but I can't. They're standing closer than friends would be, and her hands are on his chest, but not pushing him away. His arm is resting on the truck next to her head, as if he's going to lean down to kiss her. I so wish I could read lips because I can't hear what they're saying from where I stand hidden amongst the manicured bushes at the side of the house.
I jump when he suddenly slams his fist against the truck, and she pulls her hands away from him.
They're fighting.
I turn to walk away and trip over part of the stone landscape. When I look back, he's looking right at me. Our eyes lock and flash for a brief moment before I tear mine away.
Crap.
I beeline into the house, embarrassed at being caught spying on him. Could I be any more immature? Trying to avoid the guests in our kitchen, I go down the other hallway and run right into Tor who must have come in through the front door. Grabbing my arm, he quickly and discretely steers me into the laundry room and closes the door behind us.
I stare up at him, trying to catch my breath from walking too fast. Or maybe from being so close to him in this small space.
"What were you doing out there?" He asks. "Eavesdropping? That's not like you, Kenz."
I shake my head and try to find my voice. "No. I was looking for you so I could say goodnight and thank you for playing the songs for me. I haven't seen you play since I was a little girl. I guess I just wasn't expecting to see you with Sydni. I'm sorry."
"Don't apologize."
Backing up a few inches, he glances down at my legs. "You skinned your knee." He grabs a paper towel from a shelf next to the washing machine, runs some cold water on it from the sink, and kneels down in front of me.
He gently dabs at my knee with the paper towel, then tosses it into the trash. I wait for him to stand, but he remains kneeling in front of me, his hand on the spot behind my knee. Tor has fixed many booboos for me over the years, and maybe he's thinking of all those times, like I am right now. We've reached that odd moment again where the lines of who we are to each other have been blurred.
More like obliterated.
I reach out and move my fingers through his long hair, my nails grazing along his scalp, and he places a soft kiss right above my skinned knee before he finally stands, grabbing my waist and lifting me effortlessly up on top of the clothes dryer, moving to stand between my thighs. Without breaking eye contact he reaches behind him and locks the door.
"Nothing is going on with Sydni. She just likes to push my buttons and piss me off." His hands are on my waist as he talks, and I have no idea what to do with my own. Right now they're white knuckling the edge of the dryer.
"You don't have to explain, Tor."
"Yeah, I do. I don't want you thinking she and I are back together. Things are just getting really complicated."
"Does she think you're getting back together?"
"I don't know what goes on in her crazy brain but we are definitely not together. A few weeks ago we talked and she asked for another chance."
"What would that be then, the hundredth chance?" I ask, unable to hide my sarcasm, which is attempting to cover up my fear of her getting him back.
"Something like that. But that was before you and I...talked." He says nervously, his eyes shifting down between us and then back up to my face.
"So you're not going to give her another chance?"
"No." He shakes his head. "I can't even consider that when all I can think about is you, now can I?"