Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 77842 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77842 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
“That’s pretty awesome. That’s a new one.”
“Yeah, I like you.” Owen raises a brow, as if his acceptance of me is a big deal.
“Well, I don’t have anything to show yet. I’m hoping to get it setup soon.”
“You better show me when you do!” Owen says with a smile, pawing at the air with his left hand, as if he wants to give me a playful slap, but isn’t sure how I would take it. I can’t help but laugh. I love how curious they are of my work. The city never gave me that kind of attention.
“I will.” I place the apron on the banister, excited to get the room settled.
“Anyway, we won’t stay and bother you—we just didn’t want Earl running you off. His daughter is a mess. He can’t fix her, so he blames everyone else.” Flynn’s word come out unfiltered and with a hint of irritation. He must really be pissed about her breaking in and stealing their drinking glasses.
Owen opens the front door, letting Flynn go ahead of him. He winks at me before shutting the door behind them.
Wow, these people know everyone’s business. Staring through the glass on the door, I watch them cross the street and wonder what they’re saying about me.
My phone buzzes on the counter, the vibration causing it to slip closer to the edge. Rushing over, I snatch it up before it falls and see Heston left a text.
Heston: Give me your address, so I can make you dinner?
I shake my head, rereading the text. He really doesn’t need to come over here and make dinner for us. I would like to see him, though. Maybe another date?
Heston: Stop overthinking it.
Trying to fight back my smile, I snort instead.
Me: How about dinner at a restaurant?
I counteroffer, nervous to let him come over. It will make things more personal between us, for sure, and I’m not sure I’m emotionally ready for that to happen. I just lost my mother and am adjusting to a whole new life. What if I really start liking him and he doesn’t feel the same way? What if he just walks out of my life? Can I handle that right now?
Heston: See you at six.
My brows furrow with confusion. Wait—what does that mean? Are we going out to eat?
Me: Where do you want to meet?
Three dots pop up then disappear. I sit for a few moments, waiting to see if he begins typing again. He doesn’t. My suggestion for a public place must have pissed him off. I sigh loudly, placing my phone facedown. My stomach is twisted in knots. I wanted to see him, and now that he’s not talking to me at all, coming over here doesn’t sound bad. My brain and heart contradict one another, and it’s aggravating.
I glance at my phone one last time, deciding I’ll order in pizza and put a movie on for Paige and me. It will be nice to spend some time together after our fight from earlier. Until then, I’ll go upstairs and get lost in all things silent art.
Hours pass. I’ve organized my sculpting tools and checked my phone several times to see if Heston has texted anything. He hasn’t. I want to try to fix whatever it is I did, but tell myself to put the phone down and let it be.
The sound of Paige’s door across the landing has me looking over my shoulder, waiting to see if she’s coming in here or heading downstairs.
“Hey, Mom,” she says, her voice tired. Not having her phone must be boring as hell. She swipes a strand of hair from her face and crosses her arms across her Eminem shirt that’s so large, you can barely see her cotton shorts.
“Yeah?” I reply, taking my attention back to organizing my paints.
“I’m hungry.”
My chest rises, knowing I’ve waited as long as I can for Heston to text back. I’m going to have to order the pizza.
“Yeah, okay. How about pizza?” I brush my hair from my face to see that she’s already nodding. I knew she wouldn’t resist.
I laugh, pushing myself to my feet, and stretch. Jesus, I was on the floor longer than I thought. My back is stiff and knees feel heavy.
Grabbing my phone, that I’m pissed at, because it won’t magically tell me what Heston is thinking, I head downstairs. Paige’s footsteps are right behind me. She sits at the counter while I wash my hands free of clay dust.
“We should do a movie,” she suggests, acting like she’s didn’t just go drinking with the neighbor girl. I’m still shocked by what she did, but she’s never in trouble. Would she have lived a normal teenage life, if she didn’t screw up once in a while?
“Yeah, I was thinking that too.” Drying my hands, I reach for my phone to order dinner, when the doorbell rings. I freeze and look at Paige, who is already glancing over her shoulder at the door.