Page 48 of PS: I Hate You
It was amazing, really, how that gentle gesture had such a violent reaction on my body.
How his loving words tore into my heart until I couldn’t breathe.
Literally. I stumbled around the side of the house, wheezing and fumbling for my emergency inhaler, silently begging that no one discovered me.
The chime of a new email has me blinking my eyes and pulling me back to reality.
I’m not nineteen having an asthma flare-up outside of the Perrys’ house in Pennsylvania. I’m lying on my couch in my Seattle condo. My safe place.
And I’m in the middle of a workday, processing accountant deployments.
Heaving myself into a seated position, I drag my laptop off the coffee table and settle it in my lap. And that’s when I realize the email that pinged was my personal, not my work.
A familiar name sets me to grinding my teeth, with the sting of that summer fresh in my mind.
Still, I open it.
Sender:Dominic Perry
Subject:Next trip
When can you take some time off work next? How do you feel about Kansas?
Sincerely,
Dom
My gaze slips toward the wooden chest I found at a thrift store and bought because it looked like something a pirate would bury their treasure in. I previously used it to store blankets.
Now it holds six Rubbermaid containers full of my dead brother’s ashes.
Josh did always think his booty was priceless.
My heart aches for the chance to hear one more of his ridiculous,groan-worthy jokes. He was like a dorky dad half the time, and I miss his laugh so much my stomach hurts. With an arm wrapped around my middle—as if that’ll stave off the pain—I type a reply one-handed.
Sender:Maddie Sanderson
Subject:RE: Next trip
June. Yes to Kansas.
Summer
Chapter
Thirteen
“We should have combined this with another state.”
Those are the first words I speak to Dom when I find him waiting on a sidewalk in Topeka, Kansas. I have to say something to distract myself from how good he looks standing there in his white T-shirt and dove gray shorts that struggle to contain his thigh muscles. The slight breeze rustles his hair, and Dom has the audacity to finger-comb the dark, silky waves off his forehead.
It’s been two months since our Alabama trip, and Dom’s attractiveness has not dimmed in the slightest.
Damn him.
The fact that I keep noticing his handsomeness drives home the importance of getting through these trips faster. The less time in his presence, the better.
Why?I silently rail at my lovingly evil brother.Why did you have to stick me with this loathsome panty-melting man?