Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 145746 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145746 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
The deep baritone is rich and familiar. I’ve heard it quiet when we’d spread a blanket in the arboretum and read to each other. I’ve heard it hoarse with passion. I heard it for the last time, raised in anger, cut with bitterness and agony. Even before I look to the top of the stoop where the band has set up, I know who I’ll see.
“I’m Wright Bellamy,” he says, his charming smile as warm as the wave of summer heat. “But my friends call me Monk.”
My heart seizes in my chest, a cardio revolt at the sound of that voice, at the sight of him. He’s wearing his hair cut more closely than he did at Finley, a tight fade. His broad shoulders strain against a T-shirt emblazoned with the word WONDER. Not sure if he means the feeling or his musical hero, but he wears it well. His skin is still drawn taut over the high cheekbones and geometric grace of his face’s angles and edges. If anything, he’s more handsome than the first night I met him. He sits down at the keys, cues the band, and begins singing. I recognize the song immediately as one he worked on a few nights when I was at his place. When he would pull me down to his lap while he experimented with the tune, capturing notes from thin air and squeezing them between the lines of his sheet music.
All this time I’ve been in New York and I see him the last night I’m here. I assumed he went to Juilliard, as he had planned, but I knew we’d both be absorbed into the mass of this place. I didn’t even have to hide. Just living in a city this large is camouflage enough.
“I gotta go,” I tell Tessa, gripping her hand much too tightly. “Like now.”
“What?” Her brows snap together and she tugs back. “But we still gotta get our fish.”
The line for the fish fry is long as hell, and I want to get out of here before Monk sees me. It’s a ridiculous fear, considering how many people are here. Why would he pick me out of this huge crowd? We’re not even close to the stoop, but there is an urgency to get away. I’m not ready to face him, not after what I did.
“I need to leave,” I repeat. The tide of panic has reached my chest, sloshing at my heart. In seconds, I’ll be underwater.
“Just let the band finish,” Mel says, her eyes fixed on the stage. “They’re even better than I heard they were. And the bandleader, the guy on keys—fine as hell. I might need to stay and see if he needs his instrument tuned, if ya know what I mean.”
She laughs at her own lame joke. My stomach churns and I wish I could disappear right through the sidewalk.
Standing with my friends in line for the fish goes against my every instinct to flee. I don’t even realize I’m clenching the hem of my dress in my fist until Luis covers my hand with one of his.
“You okay?” he asks, dipping to search my face with concerned eyes.
“Yeah, just ready to leave.” I glance around anxiously, as if Monk, though safely onstage, could be two places at once and might pop out of the bustling crowd.
“We gotta eat,” Luis laughs. “You were the one talking about how hungry you are.”
The line is moving slowly, so we are still waiting after the band’s third and final song ends.
“Thank y’all for partying with us tonight,” Monk says from the top of the stoop, mopping the sweat from his brow with a handkerchief. “Stay cool if you can. Our band’s called the Four Piece. We play all over town if you wanna catch one of our shows.”
He says a few more things, maybe shares a social media handle or something. I block his voice out. I cannot be this close to him.
“Thank God,” I mumble when we are a few feet from the front of the line. “It’s about time.”
“Excuse me,” a young woman says, stepping ahead of us. “I promise to be quick and don’t mean to cut in line, but we want to make sure the band eats.”
The hairs on my arms lift as if I’m standing in the eye of a force field, and somehow I know he’s there. I don’t wait for him to appear beside me. With only a survival instinct spurring my actions, I wordlessly peel off from my friends, slipping away and tucking myself into the grooves between sweaty bodies. I’m foolish enough to think I’ll get away with it, until Luis foils my escape.
“Verity,” he shouts. “Where you going? We up!”
I ignore him and keep pressing ahead. The crowd thins as I reach the perimeter, and I’m so close to freedom when a heavy hand grips my shoulder and turns me around.