Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 93578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 468(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 468(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
“That’s a lot of baggage for a kid to carry around.”
“It was. But I survived.”
He nodded. “I’m curious. What made you tell me at the library?”
“Honestly?” I reached for my wine again and finished it. Plunking the empty glass down, I said, “I have to confess—it was kind of an accident.”
Hutton got up, went to the wine fridge, and pulled out a new bottle. “What do you mean?”
“Well, you know how I sometimes say random things when I get nervous?”
“Like being engaged to a billionaire?” He worked the cork from the bottle with a noisy pop. “That our wedding is next month?”
I laughed. “Exactly. The library was one of those times.”
“What were you nervous about at the library?”
Heat rushed my face and I put my hands over my cheeks. “It’s too embarrassing. I can’t tell you.”
“Come on.” He poured us both more wine.
“You’re going to laugh at me.”
“I won’t. I promise.”
I took a deep breath. “Okay. I was nervous because I thought you might kiss me.”
“And you didn’t want me to.” He sat down again.
“What?” I stared at him in disbelief. “No! I totally wanted you to. But I’d never kissed a boy before, and I had no idea how to do it. I was like, ‘What if it’s awkward? What if my glasses get in the way? What do I do with my gum?’ Then I panicked.”
He started to chuckle. “Sorry, I know I said I wouldn’t laugh, but the two of us were having the exact same moment of panic. I wanted to kiss you and couldn’t bring myself to make a move. My head was racing with all these ways it could go wrong, and I wasn’t sure you even wanted me to kiss you in the first place. I thought maybe I was misreading the signs.”
“You weren’t,” I said, shaking my head. “God, can you imagine what we must have looked like? Sitting there on the edges of our seats, our faces inches apart . . .”
“I was sweating buckets,” said Hutton. “It was probably dripping off my forehead.”
“I didn’t notice. But it felt like an eternity went by and nothing happened, so I figured you must not see me like that. I had to say something to break the tension, and for whatever reason, the thing about my mom came out.”
“I remember having no clue what to say. So I wrote the encoded note.”
I smiled. “That was the perfect response. It made me feel better.”
“Good.”
We sat there for a moment, not touching our food or wine, just looking at each other. It was like time had rolled backward, and we were in the library all over again. If I were someone else, I thought, Millie or Winnie or anyone else, I’d get up and sit on his lap. I’d straddle his thighs and put my hands in his hair and tell him it’s time we gave ourselves a second chance at that first kiss. Just thinking about it made my heart beat faster.
But then he said, “It’s probably good that we didn’t mess around back then. Don’t you think?”
I blinked, then recovered fast. “Oh, yeah. Definitely. It would have made things weird with us.”
“Right,” he said, but there was something unconvincing in his voice. “I mean, it’s hard to say for sure, but you’re probably right. It might not have been worth the risk.”
I reached for my wine and he picked up his fork.
He’d said might.
Might wasn’t a certainty. Might left room for doubt. Might created space for hope.
Beneath the table, I crossed my fingers.
After dinner, I loaded the dishwasher while Hutton put the leftovers away and then cleaned the stainless pans by hand. I laughed as I watched him at the sink, sleeves rolled up, scrubbing away with a sponge. “I bet you’re the only billionaire washing pots and pans tonight,” I teased.
“Probably,” he said.
“I think it’s good.” I patted his shoulder. “Shows character. Like you haven’t forgotten where you came from. Hand them to me and I’ll dry.”
Side by side, we got everything washed, dried, and put away. When only our wine glasses were left, Hutton glanced at the half-empty bottle. “Do you want to stay a little longer? Finish the wine?”
I hesitated. “If we finish that bottle, I won’t be able to drive home.”
“So stay over,” he said. “I have plenty of guest rooms.”
“A sleepover?” I feigned being scandalized, touching my fingertips to my chest. “Before we’re married? What would the townsfolk say?”
He laughed, grabbing the bottle and emptying it into our glasses. “They’re probably already talking about us. Come on, let’s go out on the deck. I don’t think the rain has started yet.”
Outside, the air was thick with the sharp, ominous scent of ozone. I sank into the cushions at one end of an outdoor couch, and Hutton sat down next to me, on the center cushion.