Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 71075 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71075 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
When I’ve finished texting my dad back, I let out a deep breath, then look at the building out in front of me and wonder for the millionth time if I’m making the right decision in moving to Montana and leaving my parents back in Oregon. Part of me knows that it’s what is best for me, a fresh start, a do-over even, but it doesn’t feel right. I’ve lived my entire life with my parents no more than a five-minute drive down the road, and now they are going to be hours away. Not to mention I don’t exactly have a job and will be living with Cybil and Tanner until I find a place for myself, something that I’m not sure I’m looking forward to.
Don’t get me wrong—I’m happy to be able to spend lots of time with Cybil, who I’ve missed like crazy and actually miss living with. Some of my best memories are from when we were young and she and I shared a bedroom after her mom passed away from cancer and she moved in with us.
And I’m really looking forward to being closer to my niece, who is adorable and the most perfect little girl, and I’m even happy to hang with Tanner, who is a really good guy.
But I’m not looking forward to living under the same roof as my best friend and her husband, who are grossly in love, and even though their house has lots of space, there is not going to be a way to escape them and their perfect coupledom. It’s not that I’m not really happy for Cybil—I’m glad that she found someone perfect for her. It’s just seeing her so happy and in love is an unwanted reminder of what I don’t have and probably never will.
Not with my luck anyway.
Shaking my head at my own depressing thoughts, I pull up one of my favorite murder-mystery podcasts and press play on the latest episode, before I pull my coat from behind me and lean my chair back, using my jacket as a blanket. As the story plays, I watch the snow cover the windshield and pray that Maverick is okay and that he’s not too far away.
Chapter 2
JADE
I blink my eyes open when I feel Pebbles crawl onto my chest, digging his tiny paws into my skin while he whines. “It’s okay, baby.” Holding him against me as the wind outside howls, I sit up to look around, not seeing anything through my windows, which are all now covered with what appears to be a thick layer of snow. Not sure how long I was sleeping, I grab my phone to check the time, and my eyes widen when I see that it’s almost one in the morning.
Four hours. It’s been four hours since I talked to Cybil, four hours since Maverick was supposed to be on his way to me. After pulling up Cybil’s number, I press call and curse when my phone beeps in response. Glancing at the bars, I see then that I have no service. None. How that’s possible when I had it earlier is anyone’s guess, but I don’t now.
Dropping my cell into the cup holder, I move Pebbles back to his bed and put on my coat along with my hat. There were more than a few cars in the lot when I got here, so if my car is now covered with snow, there will be no way for Maverick to spot it among all the other ones. Not that I know for sure that he knows what kind of car I’m in, but knowing my best friend, he does.
I push open the door—or try to, but it’s like pushing up against sludge. The one good thing that happens is that the snow falls off the driver’s window, allowing me to see outside, not that I see much—the bright lights that were lighting the parking lot for the rest area are now dark. All I can see is snow and more snow still falling steadily from the sky, and even though I have no desire whatsoever to get out of my car, I shove on my door until I’m able to open it enough to get out.
Pulling my hat down as far as it will go on my head, I shut the door, then wrap my arms around myself and walk back to my trunk through the snow, which is halfway up my calves. I might not know much about cars, but I do know that a blocked tailpipe is never a good thing under any circumstances.
Finding that the snow around it is mostly melted away, I kick it away farther, then look around. There are a few semitrucks still idling with their lights on, and judging by the unmarked snow covering the road, no one has been through here, so it’s my guess that Maverick hasn’t passed by and missed me, something that doesn’t make me feel better at all, because now I’m worried about him.