Page 41 of All This Time
“Young adult.”
“Oh. So, the characters are teenagers?”
She chuckles. “Most of the time, but it’s really the age bracket that the stories are meant for. The books are targeted for readers twelve to eighteen but still include adult themes but from a young character’s perspective.”
“Give me an example.”
She glances over at her bookshelf for a minute, and then turns back to me, her expression a little hesitant. “Okay. Well, there’s one bookI read where the girl has a crush on the popular football player at her high school, but she’s convinced that he doesn’t even know who she is. Then out of the blue, he asks her out and she’s thrust into this world that she’s unfamiliar with and has to learn how to navigate dealing with the popular kids and her feelings for this guy. She’s not sure if she can trust him, though, because he’s different with her than he is with his friends.” She shrugs. “That’s just one example.”
“You don’t think you could write something like that?”
She shrugs. “I mean, maybe. But my high school experience is very tame so far compared to some of those stories.”
“Youarea little bit of a goody two-shoes, aren’t you?” I tease her.
“Um, you’re in my room after curfew lying shirtless in my bed. That seems a little rebellious, if I do say so myself.”
Fuck. This girl is something else.
Shaking my head, I laugh lightly. “I guess you’re right.”
Laney lets out a yawn. “It’s getting late.” We both glance at her alarm clock on her nightstand.
Shit. How is it past eleven already?
“Is it okay if I stay a little while longer?” I ask a little too desperately.
She bites her bottom lip. “I guess. But you need to get under the covers this time because you were so heavy I couldn’t move them last time,” she says, pointing a finger at me, and then she heads for her dresser to gather some pajamas. “I’m going to get changed. I’ll be right back.”
“All right.” Watching her leave, I wait until the door is shut before carefully standing from the bed and walking over to her mirror above her dresser, seeing those familiar postcards that her grandfather wrote to her grandmother before examining the bruise on my side.
The fucker got me good this time, but at least I can hide this one.
It’s going to hurt like hell at practice tomorrow, but I just have to make sure he doesn’t see that I’m in pain. That will only make him happier.
Shaking my head, I grind my teeth together on my way back to Laney’s bed, kicking off my shoes before lying under the covers and putting the ice back on my ribs. I just hope to God nothing’s broken.
Laney enters the room again a few minutes later in green flannel pajama pants and an oversized T-shirt.
Fuck, she looks cute.
“You better scoot over and make some room, Adams.”
“You got it, angel.”
She shakes her head, but there’s a smile on her lips. “Not sure I’m a fan of that nickname.”
When she climbs into the bed and slides under the covers with me, I don’t leave too much space between us. She radiates this quiet warmth—not just in her body, but her soul. Being alone with Laney after a long time is like feeling sunshine on your skin after a week of cloudy days.
But then as soon as my dad comes around, the storm returns and I become accustomed to the darkness, forgetting how bright the sun can shine.
It’s part of the reason I came back to her again after my dad and I got into a fight, much like I did the last time and the time before that.
“Do you want to live in Blossom Peak for the rest of your life, Laney?” I ask, watching her as she gazes at the ceiling.
She considers my question, turning on her side and sliding her hands under her head as she faces me. And fuck, those green eyes of hers captivate me when we’re this close.
“I do. This is home. My parents are here, the winery is here, and honestly, I could write from anywhere.” She sighs. “I’ve always had thisvision of living in a house up on one of the mountains that encircles the town, you know?”
