Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83020 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83020 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
“I think I’ll go, too,” I say nonchalantly, but my dad huffs as if he expected me to be there and saying I’ll go is completely redundant.
“Em said if we get there before six, she’s going to put us to work,” Mom says. “I don’t mind helping if you want to go early.”
I nod, wanting to head over there now, but I know I wouldn’t be able to speak with Ali if I did. If she headed that way, it’s because she’s offered to help with whatever they need, meaning she’s going to be busy. They might miss her if I drag her off to speak with her, and I can’t risk her getting upset again. Mom and Dad may not hound me about her being upset, but I don’t know of one guy there that wouldn’t punch me in the nose if they see a tear run down her pretty cheek and suspect that it’s my fault for making it fall.
“I’ll make sure Aria’s bag is ready for a pool party,” I tell them as I stand from the table and carry my coffee cup to the sink.
I’m not one to wish time away, wanting each precious moment I have with my daughter, but I already feel like today is going to be different. I have so many things to say, and I know that with too much time to think about it, I may change my mind.
Boomer texted me that she was there and fine, but I know there’s going to be this awful feeling in my stomach until I can lay eyes on her and see for myself that she’s okay.
Packing Aria’s bag takes all of three minutes. Now I only have nine hours to kill.
Knowing Aria is good under my parents’ very capable supervision, I head to my room and hit the shower. When I come into my fist with Ali’s name on my lips, I don’t feel even the smallest amount of hesitation or shame.
Chapter 25
Alyssa
This is exactly what I needed to take my mind off things. I like to be helpful. I always have. That part of my personality meant people are always asking me to join in, especially if it means there’s work to be done. I don’t feel used right now as I help April and Delilah move extra folding chairs from a hall closet, like I did when asked to join certain groups in high school.
I feel valued here, and that makes it feel less like work, despite the sweat running down my back and dampening my temples.
I stick my tongue out as I enter the kitchen a few minutes later, desperate for a drink.
“Water or something a little more fun?” Grace asks with a glance over her shoulder as she heads for the fridge.
“Just water,” I say.
Several of the guys mill around and have even helped with the tasks Em handed out. It shocks me to discover that I’m no longer shying away from them or trying to avoid them. There’s something about the protectiveness Harley has shown me, even when he’s mad or fighting it, that tells me what I’ve always known deep down to be true. I’m safe here. These guys would never hurt me. It wasn’t until today that I accepted it, and honestly, it feels good to be able to trust people again.
“What’s that smile all about?” Boomer asks as he props himself on the wall beside me.
“Acceptance,” I say, telling Grace thank you when she hands me a frosty bottle of water.
“It looks good on you.”
“Thanks.”
“The dust covering your forehead and hair? Not so much.”
I swipe at my forehead with the back of my hand, but I don’t drop my smile. “A little dirt never hurt anyone.”
“Very true, but you can use my bathroom to grab a shower before the party starts if you want.”
“I was thinking a dip in the pool would be more refreshing. Wanna join me?”
He looks back at me, pulling his eyes from a couple of the guys goofing off on the other side of the room.
“You’ll sink to the bottom in those jeans.”
“I brought a bag.”
“Need me to grab it from the car?”
I shake my head. “I stashed it in the daycare when I arrived. Meet me out there?”
“Race you,” he says with a grin before bolting from the room.
He’ll win because I spend a minute standing there, downing the bottle of water before grabbing my bag and changing my clothes in the bathroom in the daycare.
As I expected, Boomer is already in the pool when I walk outside with a towel wrapped around me.
“If you’re gonna swim in the towel, it might’ve been better to stay in the jeans,” he teases as he swipes rivulets of water from his smiling face.
He whistles comically when I drop the towel on a nearby lounge chair. I laugh freely as I approach the pool, trying to decide whether I should use the stairs or dive directly in from the side like I really want to.