Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 36177 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 181(@200wpm)___ 145(@250wpm)___ 121(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36177 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 181(@200wpm)___ 145(@250wpm)___ 121(@300wpm)
“Sorry. I can put my shoes back on if it bothers you,” I said quietly. “I underestimated the walk here and my feet are killing me.”
Conor cleared his throat. He looked like he was struggling with something before he replied, “No. Please make yourself comfortable. I insist.”
“Thanks,” I whispered, tucking my legs under me and realising too late that the move caused my skirt to rise. Conor’s gaze flicked momentarily to my legs before making a concerted effort to look away. I tugged at the hem to cover more of my exposed thighs but it was no use.
“This is a very nice office,” I said to make conversation. “Much nicer than mine.”
“If you think this is nice, you should see Dylan’s. Though saying that he tends to spend most of his time in the tiny office at the new store.”
“Oh, well, he probably just wants to make sure everything runs smoothly since the place hasn’t been open long.”
“True,” Conor agreed and a silence fell between us. He was the one to break it when he said, “I’ve really enjoyed texting with you these last few weeks, Yvonne.”
“Oh, yeah, me too,” I replied, glancing at the floor a moment. There was something in his gaze that made my voice come out all airy. His look told me he was still interested in me, even if he’d agreed to be friends. I wondered why he liked me, why the crush he’d developed as a teen had such longevity. Lifting my gaze, I blurted, “Conor, why do you like me?”
His lips twitched in a way that said my question both surprised and amused him. “Why do I like you?” A pause as he rubbed his chin. “Well, for a start you’re a nice person.”
“Yes, but not so long ago you wanted to date me, and when you were a teenager you had a crush on me. I’d like to know what it is about me that, um, well, interests you so much.”
Conor smiled and tilted his head, his eyes trailing over my body. “Shall I draw you up a list?”
My stomach tensed at the low note in his voice while he perused me and I bit my lip. His eyes seemed to zero in on that and goosebumps rose on my arms. I ploughed ahead. “No need for a list, just give me one reason, because honestly, it doesn’t make sense. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think I’m unattractive or anything, but surely it’s more than just looks for you to have liked me for such a long time.” I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and shifted a little in my seat. I knew this was an awkward subject to bring up, but perhaps if I knew what it was about me that captured Conor’s interest then maybe I could understand him better.
His smile faded a little but his attention remained fixed on me. “Well, I suppose the main reason isn’t so easy to explain, but I’ll try.” He drew a deep breath, looked out the window a moment then glanced back at me. “You probably already know that growing up in the Villas wasn’t easy for me. I was the only kid in our block with a father who wasn’t white, which obviously made me stand out. I was bullied sometimes, mostly casually racist remarks, but I could deal with those. The main thing was a feeling of being an outsider, people disregarding or not counting me because I was different. But you didn’t disregard me. You always treated everyone the same, no matter who they were or what they looked like. And you had such a gorgeous smile, Yvonne, a smile full of kindness that was so out of place in the Villas. When you smiled at me I was done for. You were the most beautiful person I’d ever seen, not just in appearance but in your soul. Your kindness was like a beaming ray of sunlight in that place. Every time you spoke to me it made my day that little bit better because your interest was genuine. You didn’t pretend to be listening like a lot of people, you actually paid attention.”
I could barely breathe as he spoke, because no one had ever described me like Conor just had. His words painted a picture of me I’d never seen, not truly. I knew I’d been nice to him, and he was right, I was nice to most people, but I couldn’t have imagined the impression I’d made on him. Emotion thickened my throat. It was hard to know how to reply to a speech like that.
Finally, I managed, “You were a great kid. I’m sorry people were horrible to you. You didn’t deserve that, no one does.” A quiet fell between us before I went on, “My mother used to always say to me and my sister that we weren’t better than anybody, but nobody was better than us either. We were all just people trying to forge a life. It was advice that stuck with me.”