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-Paige
A reluctant laugh sneaks out of my chest. Some people would’ve read this and thought she was out of her mind.
To be honest, Paigeisa little out of her mind. But in the perfect way. A rambling, wonderful way. I love the odd way she talks and her unconscious need to touch me. The way she realizes she said or did something unconventional, but she’s never really sure what exactly it was. And the ridiculous fact that she refers to her dog as her life partner with complete sincerity. I do not doubt that Pumpkin will have Paige’s devotion until the last breath she takes.
To be loved like that, it’s something people could go crazy for.
Something I’d break every law for.
Someone I’d destroy my carefully arranged life for.
The fire is roaring again, ready to take whatever I feed it.
The book should be next. It’s light in my hands, and I bet the dry pages will crisp and blacken faster than anything I’ve thrown in so far. The paper has little more pressure than feathers when I fan through the pages.
A hint of green catches my eye, and I stop with my thumb on the page.
Just let her love you, you idiot!
The note is written in Paige’s signature green ink, the letters running up the side of the page, taking up the small amount of free space in the margin.
And it’s like she’s standing next to me, murmuring the words in my ear.
I drop the rest of the magazines in my arms and flip through more of the pages at a slower rate than before. A lot of them are exactly as they were originally printed, but every so often I hit on gold. Well, I hit on green. Scattered throughout the book, Paige has left commentary.
He sounds dangerous and handsome. Swoon.
Love the play of dark and light.
She is a badass. I want to be her when I grow up.
None of the words make sense to me, because I have no idea what’s going on in the story. It’s like hearing half of a phone conversation. I want the whole picture.
I settle on the back steps, the same spot Cole occupied not too long ago.
And I read.
I start at the beginning, immersing myself in the historical story, discovering the characters Paige called dangerous, handsome, and badass. Every page I come across with her writing, I devour. My hunger for her thoughts growing exponentially stronger than the ever-present emptiness in my stomach.
About halfway through, I realize I’m holding the book an inch from my face, trying to make out the words, only to realize I’m struggling so much because the sun’s set, and the fire died.
I pause long enough to check for stray embers before heading into my bedroom and clicking on the thrift shop lamp. The bulb flickers for a moment, as if deciding whether or not it wants to wake up, then finally flares to life.
With my pillow balled up enough to elevate my head, I continue reading.
I don’t remember falling asleep, but I realize I’m waking up. My eyes are still closed as my mind pushes through a comfortable fog. Fingers brush against my forehead, teasing my hair.
Paige. Paige is here.
She’s come back to me. She’ll stay here, close. When I wake up, I’ll see her face. The curve of her lips, the round button of her nose, and that slim scar cutting through her pale eyebrow.
She’ll say something strange, and I’ll kiss her mouth. Drink in her coffee scent.
Coffee.
Why don’t I smell coffee?
I breathe in deep, as my eyes crack open.
