Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 101667 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101667 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
“Am I?”
“Not at all. I don’t understand why I have such a hard time with my family. I love Zac and Anna, but I can’t seem to form any kind of…relationship with my parents. They make me feel so wrong.”
“You’re not wrong, Holly. I think it’s just a hard situation for all of you.” His thumb moves gently across the top of my hand as he talks, and all my senses focus on that tiny touch. “Let’s face it. You’re all strangers. I know it’s harsh. In time, things should get better.”
“Do you miss your family?”
He answers without hesitation. “Every day.”
“Then why don’t you see them?”
“It’s complicated. But ya know what? I think, like with your family, in time it’ll get better.”
“I hope so. Sometimes I feel so lost, Ty,” I whisper, leaning into his side.
“You’re not lost, baby,” he says in his soft, scratchy tone. “I found you, and you’re right where you belong.”
His words make me sigh with contentment. “You always make me feel better,” I murmur.
“Good.” He kisses the top of my head. “Do you want to do something new today?”
I tighten my arms around his waist. “Yes. I love new things with you.”
“Come inside with me.” He grabs my hand again, and we go inside together, with Poppy and Boomer chasing after us with excitement.
“I wanted to bring you up in the loft,” he says. “To watch the clouds through the skylight with you.”
The usual apprehension washes over me as I peer over to the small stairway that leads to the loft, the one place in his house I’ve never been. Much like a basement, it’s a space that is not easy to get out of. He waits patiently while I mull things over in my mind.
“You can go up first and look around,” he suggests. “I can stay here, or outside.”
I breathe air into my lungs. “No,” I reply. “I want us to go up together.”
His lips curl into his smirky smile. “Good answer.”
Tyler’s loft immediately becomes my favorite part of the house. It’s small, with slightly slanted side walls with built-in shelves filled with books. The bed takes up almost the entire room, and it’s covered with a dark gray down comforter with large black pillows and our special blanket. A narrow oak night table is on each side of the bed, one with a twisted metal lamp with a red light bulb. A two-foot dreamcatcher with rows of flowing beads, feathers, and tassels hangs on the wall over the center of the headboard. The floor is unpolished wood, with thick, colorful throw rugs.
“It’s beautiful up here!” I exclaim.
“I knew you’d like it up here.”
Directly over the bed is a window in the ceiling, exactly as he described, and I can’t believe every bedroom doesn’t haven’t one of these amazing windows. He sits on the bed and takes off his shoes as I walk around and peruse the spines of his books and take in the details of all of his wooden and resin statues. A large glass jar is on the floor in the corner, with a few coins on the bottom and several tiny folded pieces of paper thrown on top of the coins.
“What’s this?” I ask.
His smile morphs into a frown. “Oh…that’s a jar of failure and hope.”
I blink at him quizzically. “It’s what?”
He pushes his fingers through his long hair, and it falls back over his face. “The jar is a sort-of family tradition. It started with my great-grandfather, I think. They would put coins in a jar when they were in their teens, I guess?” He clears his throat. “And then when they were ready to propose, they would use what was in the jar to buy an engagement ring.” He shrugs. “I quit that idea a long time ago.”
I swallow over the sadness that pushes through my good mood. “And the little papers?” They almost look like folded-up fortune cookie strips.
The muscles in his jaw twitch. “Every time you said, or texted, something nice to me, I wrote it down. And put it in there.” His eyes shift to the jar with indifference. “It’s stupid…”
I cross the small room and throw my arms around his neck. “It’s not stupid,” I whisper against his throat. “It’s incredibly sweet.”
He hugs me tight against him for a few minutes then slowly releases me, his hands lingering on my waist. “Take your shoes off and lie on the bed with me.”
Kicking off my shoes, I watch as he stretches out on his back, the material of his T-shirt stretching over his muscular chest and arms and riding up to reveal his hard stomach. My insides respond by swarming with that unfamiliar tingle.
I crawl onto the bed and settle into the spot next to him, and I join him in staring out the skylight at the blue sky and clouds above us.