Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 128430 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 514(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128430 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 514(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
I look at her with her red cheeks and the cherry tip of her nose, and say, “No one’s delivering, but you need meds. I’m going to head out and get some supplies.”
Grabbing my hand, she says, “You don’t have to go out. We’ll sleep, and I’ll go get stuff later.”
“I think it’s better.”
She props up on her elbow. “We don’t know if electricity has been restored. You could end up traveling miles, and you don’t even have a car.”
“I have a car. It’s parked at my place.” . . . in the garage. Fuck. If there’s no electricity, the security gate won’t rise. Rubbing my chin, I try to think of another solution. “What’s around here? A grocery store, convenience store, or pharmacy?”
“There’s a twenty-four-hour pharmacy one block over and a convenience store where the street dead-ends into Atterton Drive.” She flops back down, seeming exhausted just from holding herself up. Cuddling under the covers, she adds, “But I don’t want you going out just to find they’re closed because of the storm.”
I’m already up and heading to the dryer to retrieve my jeans. I’d dropped the pajama pants when I got too hot during the night. Now I know it was her who was heated. Checking my own forehead, I don’t notice a fever, and I feel fine so far. “I don’t mind.”
“I don’t want you to go, Cooper.”
After opening the dryer, I stand and look at her, pausing to admire the concern in her eyes. “Why not?” I tug on my jeans, but with the flap still open, I bend down to put my socks on.
“I feel bad.”
“I know. That’s why I’m going.” I wink and return to my bag while zipping up my fly. I shove my wallet and phone into my pockets.
“No, I feel guilty.”
“Don’t.” After snagging my hat from the desk, I go around to kiss her on top of the head. “I want to go. Try to get some sleep, and I’ll be back before you know it.”
She grabs my sleeve before I get out of reach. “Cooper?” I stop and sit down again. Her mouth opens, but then she closes it again.
“What is it?”
“This is a lot in one night. You didn’t sign up for this when you decided to come over.”
“It’s an unconventional first date, but we get what we get.”
“And we don’t throw a fit.”
I chuckle. “Something like that.” Taking her hand, I look at her fingers and delicate wrist. “What do you say I make it up to you . . .?” I raise my gaze to her. “When you’re feeling better?” I lean in again because I just really want to kiss her.
She leans back. “I don’t want you to get sick, but I don’t want you to go either.”
I take the hat and hand it to her. “Here. A little something of me to hold onto while I’m gone.” I pull the blankets up and then stand.
Her fingers wrap around it and a small smile appears. “Thanks.”
With her tucked in, I ask, “Keys?”
“By the door.” I tug my coat from the back of the chair and put it on. When I snatch the keys from the ring, she adds, “Yes.”
I unlock the door but stop to look back. “Yes?”
“I’ll go out with you.”
Nodding, I swing open the door. “Drink the water and then get some rest.”
With a salute and a smile, she replies, “I’ll see you later.”
There’s no question that she trusts that I’ll return. My stomach clenches, and I look away. I’m not sure why her words knock the breath out of me, but they’re like a punch to the gut. I turn back like it’s the last time I might see her. I take a prolonged look at her—everything from the sweet smile to that trust that still lies in her eyes as she holds my gaze.
I smile and give her a little wave. “I’ll see you later, Story.” Closing the door behind me, I lock it and shove her keys deep into my coat’s pocket, not wanting to lose them. After putting on my shoes, I head out in search of something to make her feel better.
It’s on that walk, along the soaked streets where the water has mostly drained away, that I realize this might be the first time in years I’ve felt at peace. There’s no reason to feel a calm washing through me.
I’m roaming the streets with daylight just starting while I look for a store to purchase something that will help Story feel better quicker. Nothing about the task itself is really relaxing. So I guess it’s the girl who has me feeling unlike myself.
Cutting across two blocks, I find a store on the corner and sort through their limited selection. Just as I decide on the liquid cold-and-flu remedy, I hear, “Is that you, Mr. Haywood?”