Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 72362 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 362(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72362 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 362(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
“If the universe wanted you to be together so badly, why hasn’t his car been seen parked outside your apartment overnight?”
Shit. “All-nighters during the week in this economy?”
“Like I said, not much of an attraction if it’s so easy to keep your hands off each other.”
“Maybe he blows my back out at his house.”
“Your car hasn’t been seen there either.”
I try to laugh it off, but the sound is hollow and wrong. “How many spies do you have in this town?”
“I’ve lived here my whole life. People care about me. They look out for me.”
“Be nice if they showed Connor the same consideration.”
She pauses. As if she might almost consider his feelings for a moment. But no—it’s just not happening. “As I was saying, I know what he’s like when he’s into someone. He’s insatiable.”
“Shut the door.” My eyes are wide as can be. “You two have done it? He never told me. I feel so betrayed.”
“Make all the jokes you want. But all signs point to your situationship, or whatever it is, not lasting much longer.”
“Okay.”
She looks down the length of her nose at me. “Have a nice night, Riley.”
“You too, Ava.”
“Oh, I will.”
“Good.”
“Great.”
“Fantastic.”
“Stop trying to get the last word,” she hisses. “You’re so immature.”
I wait until she’s taken a step away to say, “Sorry not sorry.”
The dirty look she shoots me. Oof.
A bottle of cider comes into view. The hand holding it, of course, belongs to Connor. “Do I want to know what that was?”
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “Absolutely not.”
“Didn’t think so.”
“Though in my defense—she started it.”
His gaze is half amused and half concerned. Like he can’t quite pick an emotion to settle on.
“Thank you,” I say, taking my drink. “Finnriver is my new favorite. Speaking of thirsty, we have a problem.”
“Which is?” he asks, taking a step closer.
We’re still getting our fair share of attention. But at least now some people are smiling and talking and living their own lives. No small amount of scrutiny remains on the woman of the hour, however. They watch her like she’s a star on the red carpet. Beauty and talent tend to shine bright, but it must be a heck of a burden sometimes. She’s huddled on the other side of the room with a group of women, and their heads turn our way on the regular. We are so being discussed.
“Our sex life or lack thereof has been noted,” I say. “How do you feel about a sleepover?”
Before Connor can answer, his brother appears. “Hey,” says Stuart. “Hi, Riley.”
“Didn’t think you were coming,” says Connor.
“Nic got hired to play,” answers Stuart, doing his own version of stoic. It must run in the family. “She made me.”
Connor nods.
“I’m man enough to admit I tried to get out of it by hiding in the woods behind the house, but she found me. Damn her father for teaching her tracking.” Stuart watches the small stage in the corner. His wife is busy setting up a microphone and other equipment. “Mom decided not to attend. Said it would make her too sad, you not being with Ava. But she’s seeing her tomorrow.”
Connor squeezes his eyelids shut for a moment but says nothing. As per usual. He is a virtuoso at keeping it shut down.
“Should I not have said that in front of you?” Stuarts asks me.
I just shrug.
“To be fair, we really did think you and Ava would get back together. You two have been breaking up and making up since you were kids. It’s why I’ve always tried not to say any shit about her that could get awkward later,” says Stuart, so calm and matter-of-fact. “But good for you…you’ve moved on and you’re with someone new. For what it’s worth, Nic and I approve.”
“Thanks,” I say with much doubt.
Still nothing from Connor.
“We have a theory Ava booked Nic to perform to give you as many reasons as possible to make an appearance tonight,” continues Stuart. “She called Grandma too. Tried to sweet-talk her into attending. It didn’t work.”
Connor sighs.
“Hey.” Shanti joins our group with a plate of food in hand. She’s showing off her curves in a green bodycon dress with matching sneakers. “Nic made me come.”
“Me too,” says Stuart.
“She hits one bad note, or I have to make nice with one of the many town fools, and I am out of here.”
“There’s free cheese?” I ask, checking out her appetizers. “This party just got a whole lot better.”
“Table in the corner,” she says. “Try the pickled shrimp. It’s Harold’s specialty.”
“Did Cynthia bring her roasted chickpeas?” asks Stuart.
“Like she’d leave the house without them. I swear she walks around with a jar in her purse at all times.”
“Love those things.” Stuart checks out the room and winces. “We might want to wait until Ava and her posse have moved away from the food.”