Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 82893 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82893 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
“And it was a lot of food.” I nudge my shoulder into his arm. “You don’t need to take care of me, Roman.”
“Someone does,” he says so quietly I barely hear him, but I still do. And the statement is just as effective as if he yelled it at me.
8
ROMAN
45°52′55″N 123°57′34″W
Standing in the shadows, I watch Elora walk out of the bar, looking beautiful but absolutely exhausted. After she hugs the new girl who started working with her and waves goodbye to the man who had been waiting outside the door, she turns toward the sidewalk. Doing a scan like she’s looking for someone, her eyes land on me, and even from a distance, I swear I see her shoulders relax.
“Hey.” Her smile is small as she closes the space between us.
“Tired?” My hands ball into fists at my sides to keep myself from reaching for her when she stops in front of me and tips her head back to meet my gaze.
“Very. It was a long day.”
“What time are you leaving tomorrow?”
“I think around eight.” She starts to move toward our rooms. “The drive to the Redwoods is about six hours. I want to have time to find a campsite in the area before it gets dark.”
“A campsite?”
“A campsite.” She doesn’t clarify, and my jaw clenches as I imagine an area in the middle of nowhere where she will likely be alone with no one around if something happens or if she needs help.
“They don’t have hotels?”
“I’m sure they do, but I don’t need one when I have my van.”
Her van that should be sitting in a junkyard somewhere.
Fuck me.
She stops at her door and puts the key in the lock, opening it.
“Elora—”
“I’ll be fine, Roman.” She steps into her room, then turns to face me. “You don’t need to worry about me.” Worrying about her has taken over my life in the last few days. “Will I see you in the morning before I leave?”
“Yeah,” I mutter, and she nods.
“Night, Roman.”
“Night, Elora.” I watch as she closes the door, then go to my room.
As I’m starting to take off my shirt a few minutes later, I hear her door open and walk to the window that overlooks the balcony. Pulling back the curtain, I catch a glimpse of her as she passes by, heading for the stairs.
I grab my hoodie and my keys without thinking and leave to follow her. It’s well after one in the morning. Nothing in town is open, so unless she’s running away in the middle of the night—something I doubt she’d do—she has no place to go.
She doesn’t head for the parking lot; instead, she heads for the beach, never once looking behind her. Either she’s so caught up in her own thoughts, or she has zero sense of self-preservation. When she gets down to the sand, I keep my distance as she walks toward Haystack Rock, which looks intimidating with nothing but the moon casting a blue glow across the jagged black surface.
I follow silently but don’t try to hide—not that there’s a way to do that on the beach, which is empty of everyone but the two of us and a few people sitting around bonfires. When she gets to the water’s edge, with Haystack Rock sitting a little ways off in the distance because of the high tide, I watch her long hair blow in the wind behind her as she pulls something out of her pocket.
Every cell in my body stills as she unscrews the lid of a tiny bottle and dumps the contents into the ocean, watching as a wave takes what is probably her mother’s ashes out to sea.
When her quiet sob that took flight on the wind floats back toward me, I swallow over the lump in my throat and close the distance between us. Slowly, her head turns my way, and the moonlight glitters off her tearstained cheeks as her watery eyes meet mine.
My heart aches as I take two more steps and encircle her in my arms, like she did for me just days ago. There is no hesitation from her as she wraps her arms around me too.
“I miss her.”
The whispered words cut me open, exposing pieces of me that are still festering and raw from my own loss.
“I know.” I hold her tighter as she cries, burying her face against my chest. Rocking her from side to side, I rest my cheek on the top of her head, wishing I could take her pain and place it inside my own chest so she wouldn’t have to experience what she’s feeling right now.
I don’t know how long we stand like that, with the moon glowing down on us and the waves crashing against the shore, but her hold on me eventually loosens. I don’t let her go, though. Instead, I lean back and cup her jaw, tipping her head back until I get her eyes. Dragging my thumb under her eye, I pull in a breath when a loan tear falls from between her lashes.