Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 84952 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84952 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
“Don’t be scared,” she whispers. “Grandma is with you.”
She lets go of me and walks out with the usher.
I take in a deep breath and feel my heart start to pound.
So much of what she said made sense. Victory is so much sweeter when you have to work for it.
But is that what this is with Larissa? Me working for it?
I pace around the room, mulling over what Judy said.
What if I fuck it all up? What if she walks away when she sees how messed up I am? What if she can’t handle me when I can’t sleep for days at a time because I have nightmares? Will she be embarrassed when we go places, and I never have anyone in the stands for me?
Warmth fills me when I realize that Judy will be out there today.
Someone will be here for me.
I scrub a hand down my face. Panic starts to set in.
I would never want Larissa to think I wasn’t there for her.
But … you’re not, Hudson. She’s in pain right now—pain that you caused by being a total jerk—and she’s alone.
And you made her alone. You pushed her away.
Sweat dots my brows as I pace the room. I dig my phone out of my pocket and find her number. I don’t know how this will work out, or if she’ll even talk to me. Maybe she’ll say she’s had enough of me, but I have to try. She has to know that I love her.
My stomach drops.
The phone rings—once, twice, three times.
“Pick up,” I plead. “Pick up, Riss.”
The line clicks. “This is Larissa. I’m sorry I’m not availab—”
Her voice is a balm and buckshot.
I end the call.
Me: Riss, if you’re avoiding me, I get it. I understand. Please answer.
I wait for a response.
Nothing.
“Hollis,” the usher says, reappearing out of nowhere. “We’re just about ready.”
“I’m coming. Yeah. Sorry.” I walk toward the door.
Me: I’m so sorry. I was a dick.
“This way, please,” the usher tells me.
I don’t want to be here. I need to find her. I have to fix this.
I can’t walk away from her.
Judy is right. Larissa is everything.
I want her to be mine.
She is mine.
Damn it.
We approach the large black curtains that separate the back of the stage with the audience out front. Someone drones on about their experiences, and I tune them out.
I punch her number again.
My foot taps against the floor as I listen to the line ring.
Pick up, Riss. Pick up, baby.
My stomach churns.
I’m so sorry.
“Hollis Hudson!” Lincoln’s voice saying my name in the mic grabs my attention.
Shit.
The line picks up, and my heart jumps in my chest. “This is Larissa. I’m sorry I’m not available. Please leave a message after the tone, and I will return your call as soon as possible. Thanks!”
Beep.
The usher touches my elbow. “Go on,” he whispers.
I nod and turn back to the phone. “Riss, baby, it’s Hollis. I bet you fucking hate me, and I deserve it, but please, please talk to me. Let me explain or try to explain. Shit, I don’t know. I gotta go on stage now, but … I love you. Okay? Fuck. I’ll call you back.”
The curtains are parted for me, and I have no time to reflect on my message.
I walk up the steps to a round of applause.
Twenty-Seven
Hollis
I pass Lincoln on the way to the microphone. He smiles, giving me a knowing look.
Ignoring the way my stomach clenches as if it’s preparing me for a hard block on game day, I reach the podium.
My hand goes into my pocket, and I silence it, hoping like crazy that if Larissa calls, she’ll understand why I didn’t answer. But as I take the piece of paper with the notes for my speech out of my other pocket, I realize I can’t not see my phone screen. I’ll be distracted the whole time and wondering if she has texted me back. So, I put it on the podium next to the scratch paper that Judy left in the goodie box for me. I read again the words she wrote along the top of the paper.
To my chosen and newest grandson,
You are always welcome at my table.
Love, Grandma Judy
I take a deep breath.
No texts.
I adjust the microphone.
The lights above me are hot. The podium is a little low for my taste. The microphone is loud and screeches as it bounces on its stand, and I reach up and steady it.
I clear my throat.
“I’d like to first thank the Catching-A-Cares Foundation for the opportunity to be here. At first, I didn’t believe it and was …slightly uncooperative,” I say, getting a chuckle from the crowd. “But their patience and kindness have been unmatched. So, I’d like to thank them for that. And to Mr. and Mrs. Landry for personally welcoming me to Georgia. I appreciate you both so much.”