Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 96312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 482(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 482(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
We sat in comfortable silence for a moment, sipping our drinks as snow continued to fall outside the window.
I thought about waking up in Maddox’s bed, about Maya’s laughter, about feeling like I belonged somewhere for the first time in my adult life.
Tommy let out a soft laugh. “Isn’t it wild how many of us work hard to fulfill the dreams of an ignorant teenager?”
I glanced at him over the edge of my mug. “How do you mean?”
“I was fourteen when I decided to become a doctor. I researched the hell out of it and came up with a dream and a path to achieve that dream. Then I ticked off all the boxes on the path until I had it all in the palm of my hand.” He shrugged. “What I had was a fourteen-year-old’s idea of a happy life instead of an actual happy life, you know?”
“Yeah,” I said softly.
I thought back to the day I’d left home. How I’d been bound and determined to prove I could succeed on my own. My idea of happiness had been making lots of money and doing it my own way. Not by joining the family business and being the cookie-cutter Perfect Son my parents wanted, but by impressing people with my own… something. My own special sauce. My own talent. My own achievement.
And now, here I was. Successful because I was a pretty man who was good at standing next to pretty things in pretty clothes.
The sound of my snort was unexpected, causing Tommy’s head to snap up. “What?”
I started to laugh. “I just realized I was so fucking determined to succeed without my parents, I ended up building a career based on the same fake persona bullshit that they raised me with. Talk about irony.”
His forehead crinkled with confusion. “Fake? You don’t come off as fake on social media. Are you just that good at it?”
I shrugged because I couldn’t stop laughing. It was either that or cry.
Tommy frowned again and came around the island, reaching for my elbow to pull me over to the sofa. We dropped down into the soft cushions before he turned to face me. “Was the story about the one-footed duck made up?”
My laughter stopped with an aborted kind of hiccup. “The one in Melbourne? No, that duck only had one foot. He was born that way. Cute little fucker. You saw that?”
He nodded. “And when you posted the link to the donation site for the duck rescue place, was that made up?”
“’Course not. Jesus. I learned about the group from a woman on the plane next to me. She and a bunch of volunteers go out—”
“Not the point,” Tommy said with a patient smile. “The point is, you met someone with a cause that pinged something in you, and you used your platform to make a real, authentic impact. To do some good.”
I blinked at him.
“So tell me about the most fake post you ever made,” he said, settling back into the cushions.
I thought back to all of the many posts I’d made and the various sponsorship clients I’d had. “The rave review of Destina Suites on the Jersey Shore,” I muttered. “Although I was careful not to actually say I liked it. I pointed out the things that were good about it and tried to make it sound better than it was without actually misleading people.”
He lifted his eyebrows. “So you were honest? Real?”
I rolled my eyes. “And then there was the time when I posted about loving Crete while secretly battling a disgusting bout of food poisoning. I hate Crete. Will definitely never go back there despite the hidden nude beaches. And the cats. I liked the cats.”
He smiled. “Did you post about the cats? I might need to look those posts up.”
“Of course. I posted more about the stray cats than I did about the travel insurance company I was there to promote, although they didn’t know that. I kind of used the cats as the content to explain that without the insurance, I wouldn’t be able to enjoy the cats as much. Not true. I still would have enjoyed them plenty.”
His laughter was warm and easy. “Bet that insurance company didn’t cover a nice banana bag at a local med spa. Would have fixed you right up. Hydration. Electrolyte replacement.”
“How’d you know Foster was the one?” I blurted.
Tommy blinked at the change in topic, but his answer was immediate. “Because as soon as I met him, I knew I wanted to orbit around him like the neediest little planet lucky enough to bask in the warmth of his sun. Somehow, I knew the minute I stepped out of that light… I’d live in a kind of darkness for the rest of my life.”
Yes. That. That was exactly how I felt with Maddox.