Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 80834 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 404(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80834 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 404(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
My pretty friend tries to smile, but her lips wobble. “Not really. I did something really dumb.”
“What?” I ask, cold needle of dread sliding into my chest.
She glances away from the camera, out at the snow-packed lot, then back at me, eyes huge and wet. “Well, you know I was feeling so weird after the break-up even though I don’t actually care about Jeremy, so I called my stepbrother. You know, the one I said I’d never talk to again.”
I blink. “The one who sent you that birthday card? That was kind of sexy and romantic?”
She nods, shame blooming across her cheeks. “Yeah. I thought maybe, you know, I’d visit him or something. He is really hot.”
Jack and I exchange a look. I mouth, “Yikes,” and he shrugs.
“So what happened?” I say, bracing myself.
Tara sucks on the vape pen, and the thinks. “Well, so we got to talking and Hunter is really hot. Like, so hot it’s insane. He has his own company, and it’s going bananas, supposedly with a valuation in the billions. So he asked if I wanted to see his new place and—” She puts her head in her hands. “I almost did it, Eliza. I almost went over there because I wanted to see him.”
I pause.
“It’s not wrong to visit your stepbrother.”
Tara shoots me a look.
“It is if you’re attracted to him. And if he’s a dominant, charismatic billionaire. You know how gross that is?”
I want to laugh a little, but the look on her face stops me. She’s really rattled.
“So did you?” I say, soft.
She shakes her head. “No, but now I can’t stop thinking about him. He texted me, like, five times. I don’t know what’s wrong with me because I want to go there, but I know I shouldn’t.”
I nod with understanding, because if anyone gets the allure of bad ideas, it’s me. “Tara, you’re not a freak. You’re just a normal woman with physical needs. It doesn’t make you a monster.”
She looks up, eyes huge. “But I am, Eliza. I have feelings for a man who’s related to me.”
I reach for the phone, my heart twisting. “You’re not related, and Hunter’s not really your brother. He’s not your blood relative, so it’s not like that. In fact, you guys barely know each other, right?”
She nods, then breathes out, “Sort of. I guess.”
But from the look in her eyes, I know Tara’s not exactly being honest.
“So you do know each other?”
“No, no, we don’t,” she corrects quickly. “Sorry, I was just spiraling.” Then, she wipes her face and forces a smile. “Anyway. I’m proud of you, Eliza. For finding someone and making it work. You’re amazing, and I’m so happy for you guys.”
She’s about to say something else when there’s a sudden, deafening squeal of tires from her end. The screen jerks wildly, Tara’s face vanishes in a smear of motion, and then comes the unmistakable, sickening crunch of metal on metal. The video freezes, then pixelates, and then is gone.
I sit up so fast I nearly drop the phone.
“Tara?” I scream, as if shouting will somehow pull her back through the ether. “Tara, are you okay?”
There’s nothing but silence. Then, the faint, distant echo of car horns, a dog barking, and the hollow, empty buzz of the call dropped.
I stare at the phone, every hair on my body standing on end. My hands won’t stop shaking.
Jack is beside me, instantly steady, taking the phone from my hand and trying to redial. No answer. He pulls me into his chest, arms locked around me. I can hear his heart, racing but even, and the familiar smell of him anchors me to the world.
“She’ll be okay,” he says, voice low and certain.
“But that was a car accident! She could be dead,” I whisper.
He pulls back, holding me by the shoulders. “Don’t go there, Eliza. We’ll find out what happened. She’s tough. She’ll call you.”
I nod, but I don’t believe him. I keep staring at the phone, willing it to light up, to ring, to tell me this is just another episode of “Tara being Tara.” But all I get is the reflection of my own face in the black screen—wide-eyed, shocked, with my lips parted.
The champagne is still on the table. The engagement ring is still on my finger. The future is still out there, but suddenly it feels less certain, the line between happy ending and disaster thinner than ever.
“Jack?” I say, voice so small it hardly seems like mine.