Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 94106 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94106 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I should have never walked away. I thought if I let you go, if you came back, you would be mine for good.”
“When someone is already inside of you, you can’t just let go of their heart. The only way to disconnect is to break it.”
“Yeah. I know that now. Do you remember when you asked me if it was possible to have the right feelings at the wrong time?”
I nodded. “I was terrified back then.”
“We both were, just at different times. The truth is, you can never have the right feelings at the wrong time, because there is never a wrong time for the right person.”
I looked into his eyes. “Let’s stop running away from each other.”
Ford rested his forehead to mine. “I freaking love you, Valentina. I love how you have no rhythm, but it doesn’t stop you from dancing. I love how you sneeze when you’re nervous and still try to hide that you are. I love the little sound you make when you come, and that you give yourself so completely to me that you don’t even know you make it. I love that you went back to school and want to go after all the things you didn’t get to do. But most of all, I love you because I have to…I can’t not love you. I tried, and it’s physically impossible.”
“God, Ford. I love you, too. And I want the whole world to know it. Including my son.”
“Good. I’ll give you a hand in passing out the message.” He took hold of my waist, and suddenly I was in the air and plopped back down on his lap, straddling him. “I’ll start by telling the guy who dropped you off.”
Chapter 32
* * *
Ford
I tossed my keys on the table and yelled, “Val?”
“I’m upstairs! Getting changed.”
“Our reservations are for eight thirty. Don’t take too long.”
I’d had a late meeting this afternoon, and tonight had been the winter parent-teacher night at her school, so we were going out to eat. It had been one long-ass week, and it wasn’t even Friday yet.
Val had been a nervous wreck about meeting with parents, especially with the few students who weren’t doing so hot in her class. It didn’t help that last weekend, when she’d planned to prepare a little summary of notes on each student, she’d had an unexpected visitor who took up the majority of her free time.
Her son had again surprised her, coming home early for winter recess. Well, he’d surprised both of us, actually. Valentina hadn’t yet told him about us. She’d wanted to tell him in person when he came home on break, instead of over the phone. Her plan had been to talk to him by herself one night and then the three of us would go out to dinner a night or two later. But just like all things between Val and me, it didn’t exactly go as planned.
Ryan’s flight was due to land at eight in the evening last Saturday night. For the last couple of months, we’d been taking turns staying at each other’s places. With Bella back at school and her son not around, the two of us had grown pretty comfortable with walking around half dressed and occasionally fucking on the kitchen floor, if the mood struck. I was as crazy about her as ever, and the mood struck a lot. So it wasn’t unusual that I’d woken Val by going down on her and then had my junk swinging in the wind while I made two cups of coffee in her kitchen an hour later.
But it was unusual for someone to unlock the front door at nine in the morning and walk in while said junk was on full display.
Ryan’s early flight home surprised both of us, alright. I still had the fading remnants of a black eye to show exactly what a damn surprise it had been. Her son punched first and asked questions later. I couldn’t say I blamed him. Needless to say, the visual had been a lot harder to swallow than the way his mother had planned to tell him she had a boyfriend now—especially since it was me.
I took off my jacket and tossed it over a chair at the kitchen table. The whoosh of air caused a folded piece of mail from the top of a stack to fly off the table and onto the floor. Thinking nothing of it, I bent to pick it up, only the colors of the logo at the top of the letter caught my eye—green, white, and red.
Collocamento internazionale di Roma
My Italian was rusty, but I knew what it was. My heart sank reading the first line.
Dear Ms. Di Giovanni,
Congratulations! We’re excited to inform you that we’ve received your application and one of our consortium member schools has invited you to join their staff for the upcoming school year.