Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 111685 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 558(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111685 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 558(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
He was special.
That came over everyone when they saw him. It was an invisible sizzle in the air, and it wasn’t that he was famous. There was something extra about him, something from his aura that whispered to people to take notice, pay attention, and remember him because he would be a time in history they’d want to always cherish.
Or maybe it was just me. Maybe I knew to take note of these times because they’d always be a memory for me.
Either way, people stood up taller when they saw him. The smiles came quicker. If people were talking when he went past, the second he said hello, their conversation was dropped so they could return the greeting, as if they’d been paying him attention the whole time.
It was the same when we left, when we stopped at the parking lot attendant, when we got food, and this was one night. One day. One weekend in Stone’s life. I didn’t know how he remained grounded, but he did. He was.
When we went inside his house, he put his food on the counter, his keys next to it. “Want something to drink?”
“Water.”
“No wine or anything?”
I shook my head. I’d gotten sleepy on the drive here. He lived a good forty minutes away, and that was after the rush of traffic, and it was close to midnight by now. He poured a glass for both of us, then went to unwrapping his sandwich. Putting it on a plate, he saw my food was untouched. “You’re not hungry?”
“No.” Another yawn. Good gracious.
“Thought that might’ve been a power nap for you before.”
I eyed him. “I can’t believe you’re not tired.”
He shrugged, placing the second sandwich on his plate. Scooping up his water, he motioned. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?”
But I knew. Grabbing my water, I followed him to the theater room. He grabbed a remote, hitting the button and the screen lit up the room. He sank down on the middle couch. His plate was put on the console by his armchair. His water, too. I sat beside him, but a few feet away, my own water in hand.
I wanted to go to bed.
I wanted to sleep.
But seeing him, seeing the restlessness in him, he needed to wind down. Eating and the TV were going to do that apparently. And if I were being honest with myself, I wanted to spend time with him. He scored all the touchdowns for the Kings that night. He was the MVP. He’d been interviewed by so many members of the press.
I was feeling what all those other people felt.
We weren’t enemies anymore. I wasn’t even sure if we’d been enemies in the first place. There was a dark place in my heart that he contributed to. He knew about my family. He knew what his father did to mine, what I now knew his mother had done to us. But there was one more thing he didn’t know. No one knew, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to give it a voice. Ever. Maybe it was a secret better kept buried.
“How was it seeing your brother tonight? Georgia said they couldn’t meet after the game. That’s why I invited them to the field. You were okay with that, right?”
He was asking in between taking mouthfuls of his sandwich, half watching me for an answer and half watching the ESPN highlights. His team was on there. Him especially, but he turned the volume up when they talked about the other teams. I knew he was already starting to pay attention to their next opponent.
“It was good. He seems to be doing as best as he can be, given the circumstances.”
Stone was distracted, so he didn’t push me to talk more about it.
I waited, finishing my water, until he was done eating, until he had finished his own water, until I saw his first yawn come over him. He relaxed back, rolling his head toward me and a tired grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. His eyes warmed, taking me in.
“You look nice tonight. I didn’t tell you before.”
I didn’t care about that either, but it felt nice to hear. That’s when I made my move.
I scooted over. He started to get up, but I was there, a hand on his chest. I pushed him back down so I was straddling him.
He sank back in the couch, a grin starting. His eyes grew heated and he was taking me in, all of me, in a whole different way than he had thirty seconds prior. His hands went to my hips. “What’s this?” But he knew. A low simmer was starting. I felt it. I saw it in him, and he began kneading my hips.
I leaned back, almost looking at him lazily. “Put on some music.”
His eyes widened at the command, but he did, reaching for the remote next to us. The lights in the room shifted, going dark, then blaring red as hip-hop filled the speakers. I was assuming he put on a music video, but I didn’t look. I only had eyes for him.