Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 133034 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133034 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
“Me, too. But that isn’t going to happen. I’m not going to click decline again, no chance. We just need to be smart about how we make this work.”
“I’m with you. All the way.”
We lock pinkie fingers when he lets me go.
“Team Josh and Ells,” he says.
“For ever.” I smile. “And you can add Heath to that. He’ll be on our team as well. He wanted to be on our team when things were at their worst. He just couldn’t be.”
“Team Josh, Ells and Heathy baby,” Josh manages a grin. “What a winner.”
It sure is.
Last night was a winner.
Seeing Heath again was one of the best moments of my whole life.
Jeez, how I despise getting changed back into my ridiculous mundane getup to leave the hotel. I hate this shit hoodie, hiding in the shadows of being me. I’m like a hovering ghost again as Josh checks us out at reception. I walk at his side like a tagalong, wanting to throw this hoodie in the bin as he wheels our stupid little suitcase behind us through the lobby.
The cab driver barely even casts me a glance in the rearview mirror as he makes small talk on the way back to London. I’m not Holly in this back seat, and I’m definitely not Ella. I’m not me.
And I hate it. I absolutely fucking hate it.
The tiredness doesn’t help one iota, it makes my thoughts feel snarky.
“We need to rest,” Josh says when we arrive back at home. “It’s hard to sleep through the afternoon, but we need to try to get some hours of sleep in. No circles under the eyes for work tomorrow night.”
“I agree,” I say, “I’m totally knackered, but I’m also starving. We haven’t eaten since…”
“You’re right,” Josh says. “Get the coffee on and I’ll rustle up a treat that will help us sleep.”
Josh’s breakfast fry-up goes down so easily, we were both ravenous.
Getting some decent sleep – not so easy.
I toss and turn through the afternoon, dreaming of Heath. Of Cannes, and of his place. So eccentric and gothic and full of him.
I start awake with a jump, sitting up straight at the memory of first seeing him. Heath Mason, in the flesh, right in front of me.
“You alright, baby?” Josh asks, rubbing my back as he yawns.
“Yeah, I’m cool,” I say, and lie back down. “Just a weird dream.”
“About Heath?”
“You guessed it.”
“Hardly a stab in the dark. I’ve been having plenty of them myself.”
I wrap my arms around him, holding him tight as I enjoy the rise and fall of his breaths. My cheek against his shoulder.
“We’ll make it work,” I whisper.
He kisses my head. “I know. But for now, let’s give ourselves a break. We’ll drive ourselves insane if we don’t. Answers don’t appear overnight.”
“Shame they don’t, or they’d have appeared last night.”
I give him one final squeeze before I get off the bed. Time for a fresh round of coffee. Nap time done.
Josh and I chill on the sofa as we eat stir fry for dinner, and I avoid anything to do with Nighttime Whispers. A topic off limits. We watch a random Bond movie, and I have to grin at the drama onscreen. Explosions, and close encounters with enemies, and a hero who is invisible to the public eye, even though he’s a suave icon, and the most talented secret agent in creation.
There is something that strikes me about it. Something that tickles my senses.
It brings me out in goosebumps when I make the connection.
People don’t recognise me anymore, and it’s safe to be me again walking down the street, but I don’t want to be a Bond style figure, hiding my identity for the rest of my life. I don’t like the idea of being invisible to the public eye for the sake of my job, for ever.
I’m Ella. But I’m also Holly now. I don’t want to hide or apologise for being either of them.
“You’re doing the lip thing,” Josh says once the credits roll. “What are you thinking about?”
“Just stuff.”
“Want to discuss how we move forward again? We can give up on the giving ourselves a break. Get our imaginary project plan out, as Heath would say. Fuck, I love his sarcasm.”
I shake my head. “Not yet. There isn’t anything there to discuss.”
He pulls me closer, and I mould into his side, lovely and safe. This silence isn’t scary, or awkward, it’s natural. Home. I’m me here. Loved for me. Both Ella and Holly.
Josh enforces that with an I love you, baby. I’d have taken the pain off you and carried the load myself every step of the way, if I could have.
I kiss him in response. A thanks without speaking it aloud. It’s already been said enough. My roundabout of sorry and thanks is over.
Now is a time for joy, I tell myself.