Him by Carey Heywood (best book reader TXT) 📗

"Was he the one that used to sneak us beers?"

I nod, grinning. My Uncle Chip is kind of my favorite person on the planet. "He lived out there at the time and had always said I could live with him. He got sick of the cold and moved to Florida before I moved to Denver."

"It was just like one minute you were there and then…" He shrugs.

Why didn’t you come after me? That’s all I can think as I spin my thumb ring.

He grabs my hand. "I can't believe you still have this ring," he says, looking up at me, eyes wide.

I start at his touch. This is bad, the way my body still reacts to him. I cannot let him do that, even though I want it more than anything else. I pull my hand away from his and cover it with my other hand.

He had given me the ring in ninth grade. He had gotten it out of a quarter vending machine from the Food Lion by my house. He was trying to teach me how to skateboard, and we stopped to get sodas. I had exact change. He had a quarter left over. I told him to buy a gumball, but he bought a ring instead. "Don’t say I never got you anything," he had teased, dropping it, still in its plastic bubbled container, down my shirt. He laughed at me while I pulled my hand inside my sleeve to retrieve it. The ring looked like something you would buy from a trendy boutique, not something that came out of a quarter machine. It makes me laugh every time someone asks me where they can buy one. I just shrug and say it was a gift. The ring is a simple plastic one, smooth, with silver and gold squiggles across the top. I treasure it, have worn it on my thumb ever since. I spin it whenever I'm nervous.

"Yep, still have it," I say in a small voice. Time to change the subject. "So what brought you to Newark?"

"This is just a lay over. I was in Vermont. There was this picture I took." He pauses. "It won an award, and the ceremony was there. So what about you?"

I'm not surprised. During school, Will always seemed to have his camera nearby. "That's really cool, Will. Congratulations. Me? I was just wrapping up a retirement plan for a hardware chain."

"Do you like what you do?"

Who asks that? "Um, it pays the bills. Keeps me busy." Self-preservation, keeps me moving.

"Must make it hard to settle down."

I look down at my hands, spinning my ring again. Had he just read my mind? "I guess."

My hair slips out from behind my ear again. When he reaches up, I shake my head, and he lowers his hand. I unclip my hair, and brown waves tumble over my shoulder. It had been damp when I had twisted it up this morning and had dried that way. The smell of my conditioner drifts around me. Will leans toward me, inhaling."Your hair smells really good, like pears. It didn’t look this long when you had it up."

"I really need a haircut," I say, examining a chunk. "Can I put my drink on your tray for a minute?"

"Sure."

"I just want to grab a different clip." I lean forward and pull my purse up into my lap. Finding my other clip, I push my hair to the side and pin it, dropping the first clip into my purse before stowing it again.

Will sits there quietly, looking at me.

"We will be making our descent into Hartsfield-Jackson International airport. Local time is two pm and local temperature is eighty-five degrees. Please turn off any electronic devices and wait until the fasten seatbelts light is turned off to move about the cabin. Be cautious opening overhead storage as items may have shifted during the flight," a flight attendant announces over the intercom.

He passes our now empty drinks to the attendant collecting trash.

"Someone picking you up from the airport?"

I shake my head. "I was going to take a cab."

"My car's here. I could take you home."

I gulp. "I wouldn’t want to put you out."

"Seriously, Sarah." He tilts his head, giving me an exasperated look.

"Fine, whatever," I mumble.

He elbows me, raising his brows.

"I mean thank you, Will. You are so kind," I deadpan.

"That's more like it," he says, putting up his tray table.

I roll my eyes. Part of me already feels like this is a mistake. Squeezing my eyes shut, I grip the armrest between us as we land, my eyes popping open when I feel his hand cover mine. He looks at me, chewing the side of his mouth. I look down at his hand, his thumb drawing a lazy circle on the side of my pinkie. I tell myself to move my hand. People around us are unbuckling their belts and starting to stand. I don’t move for a couple reasons, first one being this far back on the plane there is no point standing until everyone else ahead of us has already gotten up and grabbed their bags. And secondly, because I just don’t want him to move his hand from mine.

Chapter 4

Past

"Won't Jessica be pissed that you picked me up first?" I ask, finally getting into Will's car. I'd only had to run back into my house once this time for my chapstick.

He shrugs. Way to non-answer, bucko. Last thing I need tonight is her to be mad at me before we even get to the Multiplex.

He looks at me. "Is that dress new?"

I shake my head.

"I've never seen you wear it."

I laugh. "Because I wear dresses all the time."

"You look nice."

I wait for the punch line, offering one for him when he doesn’t provide one. "For a tomboy, right?"

He looks back at me. "You don’t look like a tomboy tonight, Miller