Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 76347 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76347 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
I think fast, and my brain immediately comes up with a vision of Atlas’ house. Except it’s blank. Because I’ve never been there. He’s never mentioned a single detail about it or invited me there. We’ve always gone somewhere else, or he’s come here. It was natural. I never even thought of going there because I just thought it would happen eventually. I had enough to worry about on my own end to bother worrying about that. Plus, we just started dating. There’s plenty of time for him to invite me over to his house and give me details about his adoptive parents, even though he hasn’t yet.
I’m not a snoopy person, but now I’m curious. And there are freaking cold chills rushing through me, so I grab my laptop and go to type his name in, but for the life of me, I can’t remember his last name. I’m dating a guy, and I don’t even know his whole name. What the heck is wrong with me? I set my laptop aside, disgusted with myself.
I save the story I was working on—a time travel romance where all the characters are from different centuries and have interconnecting storylines, or at least they will be when I get further along—and close it because now I’m definitely not in writing mode anymore.
I don’t want to be accusatory. I’m sure there’s a logical explanation for this. I don’t want to be the person who thinks the worst, but god, it’s hard. I don’t want to react, but I still find myself reaching for my phone and pulling up Atlas’ contact.
Yes, I’m that person. I’m that person who fell hard and fast, who stumbled into this blindly. I was so head up in the clouds, crushing hard, and ready to freaking finally fall that I indeed fell. Without even thinking. I didn’t use common sense.
Well, I’m sure as heck going to use it now.
I type a message into my phone, send it off, and wait.
CHAPTER 16
Atlas
Pizza. What can’t the cheesy, greasy, peppy pepperoni-ness of pizza not make better?
I’m literally carrying an armload of pizzas that are going to be used as a peace gesture. I scheduled myself for dinner with my family tonight and offered to bring the dinner. I know everyone is crazy about pizza, even if the orders are quite unusual. I don’t know many people who like to put pickles or anchovies on pizza, but the guys at the shop assured me it wasn’t that unusual. I wanted to have them tell me their most unusual order, but I refrained from asking and just thanked them and tipped them instead.
Sometimes, it’s best to just wonder. You can’t unsee or unhear things once they’ve been shown and uttered.
As I’m approaching my car, my phone dings in my pocket. I pull it out from the sheer force of habit alone and also because I half think it’s Orion or Lennox or even Granny texting me something they forgot with their order. I do a doubletake when I see Victoria’s number there. My heart goes on a wild walkabout, and my pulse slams at my neck as a result. I turn into an acrobat, balancing eight huge boxes of pizza—alright, so I got some for later while I was ordering because why not—in one arm while I try and get my phone to slide open with the other. The thing has a passcode on it, and I keep walking toward the car while I try and stab the numbers in. I know I should just wait because I keep getting the code wrong. Finally, I lift my phone up to my face and try the whole face ID thing. I guess I should have done that from the start. Except I’m wearing a ballcap and sunglasses, and my phone is giving me the big hell no on the ID working out.
I grunt at it. Magically but disappointingly, the force of said grunt doesn’t unlock the screen either.
I try and use my fingers to type in the code one more time, but I get it wrong yet again. With a heavy sigh, I hold up my phone and, closing one eye so I can focus and not see double and triple digits, I use the end of my nose to hit the buttons. It’s crazy, but it works. The phone screen unlocks, and I can finally swipe on the text bubble to open it.
Victoria: What’s going on? My parents checked out your workplace, and it’s a computer repair shop. I keep telling myself there has to be a logical explanation, but head-blown emoji, sad face emoji, blank face emoji. I’m not sure what explanation there could be, except that you lied to me. What the heck is going on???? Turd emoji, turd emoji, turd emoji.
Holy fuck shit!