Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 82163 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82163 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
“Okay, I ordered you a cheeseburger with bacon and a side salad,” she tells me, coming back into the room, “and a side of fries so you don’t take mine.”
I laugh at her as I separate my clothes, my hands touching the shirt she unbuttoned yesterday. I put it aside as I throw a load into the machine. “We have to pack.”
“Why can’t we just bring what is already packed?” she asks, or better yet, she groans. The tiredness of the week at the beach and doing everything she could do is coming out.
“We can’t bring the same things because these are beach clothes and we need lake clothes,” I explain to her, and she puts her head back and slaps her hand on her face. “Life is rough at eight,” I mumble to her. “Good news. I already packed your bag before we left.” She smirks at me. “Go lie down on the couch.” She is already halfway out of the room. “It’s going to be an early night tonight.”
“Okay, Daddy,” she says so sweetly and I just snort. I grab the shirt I put aside and walk up the steps to my room. Entering into my walk-in closet, I grab a hanger, getting ready to hang the shirt up when I bring it to my nose and smell. I can smell her faintly and my cock goes hard thinking she’s nearby. I hang the shirt up behind my suits and I let my head hang. I wish this feeling would go away. I wish I knew that it wasn’t a mistake. I wish I knew I haven’t ruined our friendship by kissing her.
I’m busy fixing everything for us to leave tomorrow and when I tell Penelope it’s bedtime, she doesn’t even fight me on it or ask me for five more minutes. Instead, she walks upstairs and heads straight to her room. I peek my head in after ten minutes, seeing her coming out of her bathroom with her robe on. I swear, sometimes she looks like she’s eight going on twenty. “Did you brush your teeth?” I ask her.
“I did in the shower,” she confirms, and I have to laugh. She found that shortcut last year when she told me that conditioner has to sit in the hair for two minutes so she brushed her teeth while waiting.
She crawls into bed and huffs, “There is no place like home.” I can’t help but chuckle.
Walking over to her, I sit on her bed next to her, leaning down and kissing her forehead. “I love you, baby girl,” I tell her, and she smiles at me.
“Love you too, Daddy,” she replies before she turns over to face the wall. I don’t close the door behind me when I walk out.
I throw my T-shirt into the laundry basket before taking my shorts off and tossing those in also. This is something I had to learn to do. Before, I would just toss my shit everywhere, and Penelope was doing it also. When I told her to pick up her things, she asked me why I didn’t pick up mine. She was one-hundred-percent right, and then I had to change my ways.
I head into my walk-in shower, putting one hand on the marble wall and the other on the glass wall before I hang my head down and let the hot water run over my neck. I put on my boxers once I dry myself off and slide into bed, grabbing the remotes next to my bed.
Grabbing my cell phone also, I pull up her name. I’m just going to text her and ask her to call me.
Can you call me?
I don’t press send. Instead, I delete it and type something else.
I just want you to know that I’m sorry.
I don’t press send on this one either, deleting it right away.
Do you want to come over?
“Don’t be an idiot,” I chide myself, deleting the text and tossing my phone to the side. “If she wanted to talk to you, she would have said something to you today. But she didn’t. Instead, she ran away from you.” I turn the television off and roll on my side, very much like Penelope. “If she wanted you, she would have said so,” is the last thing I say before I fall asleep. The next day I get on a plane with her still on my mind.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
SIX WEEKS LATER
ABIGAIL
“How many minutes left to go?” Sarah, my co-worker, asks when she walks out of her patient’s room.
“Forty-seven minutes and counting,” I declare as I write down my notes in one of my patients’ files. I’m finishing my fifth night shift in a row, and then I’m off for five days, and I’m planning on sleeping for three straight days. This week has been the longest week in my life, or at least it seems like that. I’m just so tired. Today, I opted out of eating my dinner and instead took a one-hour nap, which only made it worse.