Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 79438 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79438 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Just as I wonder if he’s going to kiss me, the corner of his mouth lifts, and he takes hold of my hand.
With our fingers interlaced, we slowly walk down one of the many paths in the park. It’s starting to get dark, and with the park’s lights coming on, the atmosphere feels romantic.
“I have a couple of questions I’d like to ask,” Callan mentions.
Nodding, I glance up at him.
His eyes sharpen on my face. “Why do you feel like you’re a forgettable person?”
“Wow. Straight to the hard stuff.” I let out a nervous chuckle. “It’s just the way people treat me.”
He raises an eyebrow, silently asking me to continue.
I shrug and glance around us. “It’s little things.” My tongue darts out to wet my lips. “Whenever I text my friends or family, they either leave me on read or only reply a couple of days later. No one ever asks how I am.” I shake my head. “No one takes an interest in my life.”
I let out a chuckle as I shake my head, then add, “Whenever my dad addresses my life, it’s always to voice how unhappy he is with my career choice.”
Callan’s hand squeezes mine before he asks, “Why is he unhappy with your choice of career?”
A heavy feeling settles in my heart, and I wish I could change the subject.
“He doesn’t approve of his daughter being a struggling artist. He feels it reflects badly on the family name.”
Callan gives me an incredulous look. “Has he seen your paintings?”
I shake my head again, and feeling a little vulnerable, I admit, “You were the first person to see them. I think I mentioned it before.”
He pulls me to a stop in the middle of the path, and taking hold of my shoulders, he turns me to face him. “I thought you meant the collection you showed me.” A dark frown forms on his forehead. “So, no one has ever seen any of your paintings?” When I nod, he shakes his head. “You’re kidding, right?”
I’m starting to feel miserable, and not wanting my problems to ruin tonight, I ask, “Can we talk about something else?” I let out an awkward-sounding chuckle. “This is a little too depressing.”
Callan tilts his head, his eyes keeping mine prisoner. “Don’t do that, Lillian. I meant it when I said I wanted to get to know you. The good and the bad.”
“Let’s focus on the good,” I say, injecting lightheartedness into my voice. “Seeing as the business arrangement is over, I owe you a ‘thank you’ dinner.”
The corner of his mouth lifts into a hot smirk. “That’s right. You do.”
“What do you like to eat?”
We continue to walk down the path until we exit the park and head toward the Hudson River.
“Southern fried chicken,” he replies. “Or pot roast.” Chuckling, he adds, “I’m not a picky eater.”
The sidewalks are filled with people, and it has Callan wrapping his arm around my shoulders. He pulls me close to his side, acting as a buffer between me and everyone else.
Now that I’m no longer paying Callan, keeping myself from falling head-over-heels for him is difficult. My heart keeps beating with excitement, and there’s an endless fluttering in my stomach.
Unfortunately, I’m still awkward as hell, but wanting to keep the conversation flowing, I ask, “If you could only eat one thing for the rest of your life, what would it be?”
“Let me think.”
His arm tightens around me as we pass three men.
“My stepmother’s pot roast.”
My eyes dart to his face, but I don’t dare ask about the dynamics of his family.
As if he can read my mind, Callan explains, “Naomi is my father’s second wife. She practically raised me.”
My mouth lifts in a smile. “It sounds like you care a lot about her.”
“I do. She’s never treated me differently from Ellie.”
“Ellie is your little sister, right?”
He nods, seemingly comfortable talking about his family. I wish it were the same for me.
As we slowly walk alongside the Hudson River, I say, “I’m sorry I’m so awkward tonight.”
He tugs me to a stop, and we turn to face each other.
Needing to explain myself, I continue, “I’m not used to having conversations about myself.”
Or conversations in general.
I give him an apologetic look. “And truth be told, I’ve never really had a relationship.”
His eyebrow lifts, an incredulous expression tightening his features. “You’re kidding, right?”
Shaking my head, I admit, “The longest I’ve been with a guy was three weeks.” I let out a nervous burst of laughter. “And honestly, it never felt like any of the guys wanted to get to know me.” I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but here goes… “They kinda ghosted me after getting what they wanted.”
Callan’s eyes are glued to my face, a frown marring his forehead. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
I shrug and glance at the river. “It is what it is. I just wanted to tell you so you understand why I’m…” I pause while searching for the right word, “…inexperienced when it comes to dating.”