Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 121210 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 606(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121210 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 606(@200wpm)___ 485(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
A world where the only thing I need is her. A world where if everything is good and right, we’re together.
A world where Josie knows I love her and doesn’t doubt it for a single second.
A world where she’s mine.
14
Josie
Tuesday, September 23rd
“Sixty-five,” I mutter to myself, unfolding various bills from my apron and setting them in a neat stack on the counter. “Seventy-five, eighty-five, ninety-five.”
I reach back into my apron to grab the leftover wad of dollar bills, Red Bridge’s favorite currency at The Diner, and finish counting out my tips until I reach one hundred and fourteen dollars.
Tonight was a pretty good night, but we were also so busy I barely had time to pee, much less sit down during my seven-hour shift.
Now, the sky is dark, and the moon has made itself known between the stars, and I am more than ready to go home. I check my phone, finding a missed text from Clay, and when I open the screen to read it, I can’t wipe the smile off my face if I want to.
Clay: You almost done at The Diner? I miss you. I need to see you.
Me: Just finishing up now. And you saw me last night.
Goose bumps appear on my arms as my mind recalls all the things that happened last night at Clay’s. We watched Three Men and a Baby together. And we ended the night with the kind of amazing, unforgettable sex that I’ll probably think about when I’m one hundred years old on my deathbed.
It was magic. Perfect. Everything.
He told me he loved me. Clay Harris loves me. But I didn’t respond. I don’t know why I didn’t respond, but it’s like the words got stuck in my throat or something.
But do I love him back? Yes, one hundred percent, I do.
Clay: And I need to see you tonight. And tomorrow night. And the next one thousand nights after that.
Me: That’s a lot of nights.
Clay: What can I say? I’m a greedy bastard when it comes to you. Sleep at my place tonight?
Me: Give me, like, ten minutes and I’ll call you.
Clay: As in, you’ll call me while you’re on your way to my place?
It’s tempting as hell to spend another night at Clay’s, but there’s a part of me that feels guilty for not heading back to Grandma Rose’s. Lately, I’ve been sleeping at Clay’s a lot. And yes, I know I’m an almost-twenty-six-year-old woman and my grandmother can certainly do just fine without me, but she’s important to me.
Honestly, I wouldn’t be where I am today if it weren’t for her.
Me: As in, I’ll call you. LOL.
I grab my purse and slide my tip money into my wallet. I double-check that I’ve completed all of my after-hours tasks, and when I note that all of the tables have been refilled with napkins and ketchup bottles and salt and pepper shakers, I glance toward the hostess stand and make sure the menus are in their rightful place and there’s enough freshly rolled silverware to last the morning shift.
Time to go home.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Harold,” I say, hanging my apron on the hook by the back door of the kitchen and pulling my purse up onto my shoulder.
Harold gives me a nod and a groan while he cleans the last of the grill, and I step out into the alley and close the door behind me. It’s a short walk up the sidewalk to the square where my relic of Ford Focus is parked, but now that we’re into fall, it’s getting dark earlier and earlier, and I have to rely on the light pole at the corner to see where I’m going.
I feel safe, though, just like I always do here in our little hamlet of a town, and the crowd across the street at the local movie theater—that features only one screen—is an assurance as well. I see the sheriff and the mayor and half of the staff of city hall all in just one glance. If anything were going to happen tonight, it wouldn’t be here.
It’s a stupid thought—one that starts all the murder vibe shows I’ve ever seen—and I instantly regret it when a tall, dark, intimidating shadow steps out of a little nook in the wall and comes to a stop right in front of me. I scream, of course, and turn to run, but a strong hand stops me and pulls me back.
“Get away from me!” With both fists swinging wildly, I start fighting with everything I have.
It’s a struggle, and the man tries to subdue me with shushes, but I just scream louder. Clay was right. I had no business doing all that cheater shit. It’s coming back to bite me in spades, and now I’m going to be in a real-life episode of Law and Order: SVU.