Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 131387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131387 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
As if.
For my part, I’d scored a box of used and abused designer bags in an online auction (Louis Vuitton, Prada, Gucci and Chanel) that I was determined to breathe new life into, so Tonks and I’d spent the day in the workshop (PS: I had chops, only one Gucci evaded my talents).
I was going to Hutch’s mid-morning the next day to help him do some puppy training, then to hang, and finally, to spend the night.
We still had our Tuesdays and Thursdays off.
And I had my life, my work. Abigail and I had started the yoga class at the Art Center Tuesday evenings, and we were thinking about trying meditation too. So I had my girl times as well.
But as much as I didn’t want to think about it, or, if I was honest, wouldn’t allow myself to go there, we needed this break. Because I needed some time to think.
And I wondered if Hutch organized his bro day to give it to us.
I also feared what he might be thinking, even if he gave no indication he was thinking anything but that he enjoyed being with me.
Gah!
I was seeing what Abigail was saying, tardily.
We were boyfriend/girlfriend.
Bottom line.
That was what we were.
I could try to convince myself that it was something else, but it just wasn’t.
I could pick his soft snore out of a hundred of them. I knew what he ate for breakfast. How he took his coffee. That his favorite color was green and he didn’t enjoy bell peppers in anything. I didn’t hesitate to call him to do me favors. We connected regularly when we were apart. We checked in, so pretty much at all times, one knew where the other was, and vice versa.
Abigail was a friend. We talked a lot. We were getting really close.
But I didn’t know where she was at all times.
So now I was in that terrifying place where I had two choices.
The first, tell him I cared for him a lot more than just a friend, so we needed to take a step back so I could recalibrate, and then return to each other without us having the stuff that would mess with my head…or our relationship.
Or second, tell him I cared for him a lot more than just a friend, in fact, I was falling in love with him (oh yeah, I was there, burying your head in the sand only lasts for so long before you realize you can’t breathe), and I wanted to know if he was willing to explore that with me.
I didn’t want the first.
I was desperate for the other.
I knew he’d give me the first.
I didn’t know about the other.
And that was what was what I knew could turn out to be the slow death of me.
I could survive anything.
Except losing Hutch.
One could say, the man had been burned. It wouldn’t surprise me in the slightest that he didn’t want to go there.
I knew he cared about me too.
A lot.
But he’d fallen in love with two women, only to give his heart, and have them shit all over it. Eventually finding a fuck buddy for sex and company, only for her to shit all over him in totality.
Why would he assume I’d be different?
I just got burned by Bryce and decided to give up on the whole romance thing.
Sure, that was intense.
But luckily, I hadn’t gone wedding dress shopping or put any deposits down anywhere.
And although Bryce and I had mutual friends now, they were people I introduced to him. And I sensed they put up with him so they could keep an eye on him and make sure he didn’t screw with me (or, Olivia did that, but she also did it because she was nosy).
Or they put up with him because he was messy, and messy was always amusing if that mess wasn’t yours or you weren’t in it.
I didn’t lose friends or people I thought would be my family for the rest of their lives.
Hutch’s songs now made complete sense.
Sometimes, it was best just to give up hope and get on with it.
How was I going to convince him to hope again and try to get on with it with me?
And if he didn’t, how was I going to live without having all of Hutch?
On this thought, I nearly spilled my tea down myself because Tonks jumped up and started viciously barking.
Moxie went flying.
Tonks raced to the window by the fireplace.
It was the one that faced the south of the property.
The one beyond which was The Lion and The Lamb.
I locked my doors as a matter of course, as everyone should, city or not, but my mind flew to them as I started to reach toward my phone.
And that was when I heard it over Tonks’s barking.
“Help!”
The woman’s scream was filled with such terror, such desperation, it caused pain to the point I couldn’t move.