Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 110113 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 551(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 367(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110113 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 551(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 367(@300wpm)
“So. Number three of five.” Ava crosses her legs at the ankles. “I felt like I got lost in the shuffle a lot with three kids in the house. I can only imagine what it was like with five of y’all. Were you the peacekeeper? The troublemaker?”
I watch Ella zoom down one of the bigger slides, and let out a silent sigh of relief when she makes it down safely.
Am I also relieved that Ava is asking about my family? What does it mean that she wants to know more? I feel like I should proceed with caution.
Then again, I talk about my brothers with people all the time. How could I not? My family is my whole life.
“Wyatt was—is—the troublemaker.”
Ava nods. “I can see that. He and Sally are total opposites, but it works.”
“Never seen him happier. I guess I’d call Cash the peacekeeper, mostly because he had to be in control of everything. But me, I was the one who always showed up for my brothers.”
Ava clicks her tongue. “Aw. That’s sweet.”
“Yes and no.” I tip my head back and forth. “I always had this urge, or maybe this fantasy, of saving everyone. Keeping them safe.”
“From what?”
I scoff. “Themselves? Each other?”
“Example, please.”
Because of course she’d dig. Or, really, deepen the conversation. She’s not pushy. She’s just getting to know me. Which feels dangerous and thrilling and terrifying.
It’s just really freaking nice sitting down with a pretty girl on a sunny day. I’m relaxed, but also totally awake. Aware of the warmth in the breeze and the steady beat of my heart in a way I haven’t been for … weeks. Months.
Probably a sign I should get up. Stop this conversation from going any further, because the more I talk to Ava, the more I like her. Even if I knew what I wanted—which I don’t yet—what if Ava doesn’t want me? I’m not Wyatt. I’m not content to pine after someone until it makes me sick. I don’t have time for that shit.
Masochism must run in the family, however. Because next thing I know I’m saying, “I wasn’t always this way. My parents passed away in an accident when I was sixteen. I used to imagine that if I had just been there to shield them—catch them—warn them, maybe, I could’ve prevented the whole thing from happening. Magical thinking, yeah. But it helped me cope.”
Ava pushes her glasses into her hair and stares at me.
“Sorry.” I let out a thin chuckle. My entire being rings with shame. “If you suddenly have somewhere to be, I get it. A word vomit is almost worse than a real one.”
“Not if it’s projectile.” The woman grins.
She fucking grins, her eyes soft as she sits up. Angles herself so that she’s facing me, resting her elbow on the back of the bench.
Everything inside my rib cage—that softens too. Relief. Renewal.
I feel legitimately renewed, able to set aside the assumption that she doesn’t want to go deep. Hear this stuff.
She doesn’t get spooked easily. I like that.
“Fair point,” I manage around the emotion that grips my throat.
“That really and truly sucks about your parents.”
“It does suck.”
She squints a little, thoughtful. “How the hell are you doing this without them? Single parenting?”
I chuckle, for real this time. “Like I said, it’s a shit show.”
“But you’re so good at it.”
“Am I?”
“I’ve known you as a dad for all of, what, mere days, but I already know the answer to that question is an unequivocal yes.” The green in her eyes is so earnest. “I feel like you need a hug. Can I give you a hug?”
The emotion in my throat is making it difficult to breathe. A hug can’t hurt, right? I hug people all the time, and it’s always platonic.
A hug is, after all, just a fucking hug.
“I’d take a hug.”
“Thank God.” She leans in and wraps her arms around my neck. “I’d definitely have had somewhere to suddenly be if you’d said no.”
Leaning into her is as natural as pulling air through my nose and mouth. She’s warm, and she smells like flowers.
She holds me tight, so I curl my arms around her waist and hold her tight too. My body lights up like a night sky booming with heat lightning. At the same time, a strange, not-altogether-unpleasant feeling settles low in my stomach.
What on earth did I do to deserve a random run-in with such a beautiful person?
“I needed a hug too, I think,” she murmurs, and I have to resist the very strong urge to bury my face in her neck.
“Mommy?”
I immediately release Ava at the sound of the little voice.
“Yeah, Bug?” Ava asks.
“Why are you hugging Mr. Sawyer? Do you have big feelings?”
Ava’s eyes catch on mine for a single, searing beat before she drops her sunglasses back on her face. “Junie and I hug it out when those big feelings happen.”