Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 82747 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82747 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Maybe he's the strong one for being able to make that confession. Maybe it's my own guilt for feeling the same way and wanting to feed that habit rather than thinking it should be avoided.
Whichever it is, it opened my eyes to the fact that what we're doing may be fun while it lasts, but it could very easily be detrimental to our lives as well. We both have big goals in life, and getting distracted by each other is the last thing we need right now.
"I gave you a twenty."
"Hmm?" I say with a forced smile.
"This is the change for a ten," the woman at the counter says. "I gave you a twenty-dollar bill."
"My gosh. I'm so sorry," I say, hitting the button on the cash register to open it back up to pull out the rest of her money. "There you go."
She gives me a weak smile before snatching her bag off the counter as if I was intentionally trying to rip her off.
I swear, if the door didn't have a slow-close feature on it, I'm certain she would've slammed it on her way out of the store.
"I hate out-of-town people," Mrs. Shears says as she steps up to the counter, placing a magazine and the new release of a very steamy romance series in front of me.
"I made a mistake," I say. "Will this be it?"
She gives me a halfhearted smile before nodding, and I can tell she isn't happy that I won't stand here and gossip about others.
"So," she says, switching gears as she leans on the counter, bringing her face closer to mine like you would when confiding in someone or getting ready to spill some secrets. "You and Mac Hammer, huh?"
"Twenty-three-eighty-four," I tell her. "Would you like to add a reusable bag for only a dollar more?"
"No thank you, dear," she says as she pulls out her checkbook before changing her mind when she looks down at the items. "Better yet, I'll pay cash."
She hands over a twenty and a five, and I make sure to give her the proper change. "Your receipt?"
"Burn it," she says before scooping her items off the counter, shoving the book in her purse, and carrying the magazine out in her hands.
I have no idea why some of the women in town are so concerned about people judging them for what they're reading when most of them are the first ones to gossip about what other people are doing.
I like Rebecca Shears. She's Kalen Alexander's mom and one of the more important women in town, but she is as big a gossip as Mrs. Easter is. I swear the older women in town get together once a week just to compare notes on gossip and the happenings in town.
With the store empty of customers, I work on a new display for the upcoming week which will see an influx of college students looking for the textbooks the campus store doesn't have in stock.
Hours go by with only a trickle of customers, several just coming in to look without making a purchase, and I don't understand people like that. I always feel like a criminal when I walk into some place and walk out empty-handed. Maybe that's why I'm broke all the time. I should just stay home rather than letting guilt make me spend money on things I don't even want.
"That sigh sounds like you've had a bad day."
I turn to face Sage, attempting a smile but failing.
"That bad?" she asks, her nose scrunched up.
"I gave a woman the wrong change," I confess. "I was distracted. I don't doubt she'll leave a review online saying I was trying to rob her."
Sage shrugs. "Mistakes happen. Wanna talk about why you're so distracted?"
I search her eyes, noticing the way her cheek twitches as she rolls her lips and clamps them between her teeth to keep from smiling.
"Not you, too," I mutter.
"I'm not the one who posted about it in the Lindell community group on social media," Sage says as she follows me through the store. "But I'm your closest friend, so I know for a fact, you aren't having any work done on your house."
"He's—"
"He's what?" she asks, sounding fully invested. "He was rude to you, but then you two hooked up again. He put a hickey on your neck, and now he's at your house every night?"
"He's living there," I blurt.
"How in the world did he move in with you, and I didn't know about it? Riley? When did things get so serious between you two?"
I shake my head, emotion threatening to bubble up from my throat.
"We aren't serious."
"Living together is serious. Is he telling you it isn't? But also, why not live at his house? No offense, but it's so much bigger than yours. I've heard stories about his kitchen."