Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 133688 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 668(@200wpm)___ 535(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133688 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 668(@200wpm)___ 535(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
“Yep, so this is it. I plan to take the rest out soon. Once I get the tile off, I can paint and put the flooring in. Hoping to within the next few weeks.” I lean against the doorway, hoping she doesn't ask to see the master bedroom since it has the air mattress and blankets. She’d inevitably ask too many questions, and I’d have to lie to her, which I’d hate.
“Mom, can we go home?” Owen asks with an exaggerated yawn.
“He nearly fell asleep at dinner.” Loretta grins. “He and some of the other boys were running around outside in the parking lot afterward and got worn out. We had lunch, then went to the park.”
“Wow, okay. I should get him home then. I still need to make dinner, and he needs a bath.”
“He’s sweaty too,” she admits as we enter the living room. “Make sure he cleans under his arms.”
“Mimi!” Owen whines, and I laugh.
She gives him a kiss on his forehead. “I’ll see you sometime this week after school.”
A thud from the hallway grabs all of our attention, and my breath hitches. Noah.
“What was that?” Loretta asks, placing her hand over her heart.
“I-I’m not sure. Let me go see,” I say, rushing to the hallway. I walk past the closet, knowing damn well the noise came from in there. I hurry and move to the bathroom, then Loretta steps into the hallway.
“What was it?” she asks.
I put on a fake smile. “Oh, the broom fell.”
“Oh, thank goodness,” she says, coming toward me. She’s beside the closet door now.
I keep my eyes on her, hoping Noah stays still long enough for her to leave. I’m sure he can hear how close our voices are.
“Right!” I grab the broom and lean it back against the wall, hoping my acting skills are believable. “I was guaranteed by the previous owner that this house wasn’t haunted.” I let out a choked laugh. “Perhaps they were wrong.”
Her eyes soften as she walks toward me, then grabs my hand. “If you ever want help here, don’t hesitate to ask. We’d be happy to lend a hand.”
“I know,” I say. “You’ve done so much for me already, and I kinda want to do as much as I can on my own.”
“If you change your mind, just ask.” She squeezes my hand. “Elliot and I adore you both, and once this house is finished, it’s going to be beautiful.”
“Thank you. I’m trying my best,” I admit, swallowing down my panic. She gives me a sweet smile combined with a hug before saying her goodbyes. I don’t move an inch or even breathe until I hear her car reversing out of the driveway.
“I’m sorry,” Noah whispers when I open the closet door.
“You almost got us busted,” I scold. “And I nearly had a panic attack when she followed me over here.” I inhale a deep breath before releasing it.
Seconds later, Noah inches closer and palms my cheek. It takes all the willpower I have not to sink into his warmth and give into what we both want.
“Owen’s here,” I remind him, then take a step back. The added space is needed, but I immediately feel the loss.
The moment passes just as quickly as it came.
“Mom!” Owen yells. Noah follows me into the living room, and I try to act as if we didn’t just share a heated moment. Immediately, Owen’s face lights up with excitement.
“You’re still here!” he says.
“Sure am.” Noah offers him a boyish grin. “How was your day?”
“It was good. But tomorrow's Monday.” Owen frowns.
Noah chuckles. “Back to school?”
Owen sighs, and I notice he gets antsy. “Yeah, ugh.”
Noah and I look at each other, and though there’s an awkwardness between us, I try to act normal in front of Owen. There are so many things I want to say, so many questions I still have about the confessions we admitted earlier. Losing control was dangerous and exhilarating, but I’m not sure it can happen again. Over a decade of pent-up emotions poured out of us today. It’s a dangerous game to play, and there’s a lot to lose—not just for me but for Owen too.
We need to discuss what took place and figure out what it means or where we go from here. I’m not sure how to even start the conversation, but things will get even more tense if we don’t talk it out.
Owen yawns, and I check the time, realizing it’s close to five.
“We probably should get going since you have to take a bath after dinner,” I tell him, flattening down his hair that’s a mess from playing.
“But Mom,” he whines, and I know it’s because he wants to hang out with Noah. It makes me happy and breaks my heart at the same time.
“We have to be up early,” I remind him.