Fighting to Stay (Fighting Madly Book 2) by Ziegler S.L

Author:Ziegler, S.L. [Ziegler, S.L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-12-10T08:00:00+00:00

I show them around for a couple of hours from the pool, to the tennis courts, to the lake, to the trails I run on daily. And I introduce them to all the friends I’ve made here.

We end up at the dock laughing about nothing, anything, and everything. After my time spent with Mark and my dad, I need this day to end like this. I need their friendly smiles, the jokes, the familiarity of them, but not with the heaviness I had lingering over the past few weeks.

I’m laughing so hard at Bash’s imitation of Gus when he wakes up that I don’t notice everyone is silent, until Gus hits my arm and lifts his head to the beginning of a trail. The feeling, my Reed feeling, hits me down to the bone.

“No way,” I whisper to myself. He is here, in the flesh. He should be in Jersey ready to fight in a few hours. But he’s not. Because Reed is here.

Holy shitballs, Reed is here!

All my friends blur around me as I take off running down the dock. Each time my feet hit the wood, it creaks from the pressure. I jump on him, wrapping my arms tightly around his neck.

“Reed… What…? I mean, the fight… No.”

He presses his finger to my mouth, shushing me. “Let’s go down here a little bit, get away from the prying eyes.” Reed nods to all our friends as he sets me down and laces his fingers through mine. But I don’t look behind me, afraid if I turn, Reed will disappear in a cloud of smoke. I still can’t comprehend that I’m touching Reed, that I’m breathing him in.

“Why didn’t you come with the group?”

“You needed time with them.”

He knew I wouldn’t spend time with them if he was here, because he knows it all. Damn Reed, he’s making my heart grow even more for him.

Hand in hand we walk the only wooded trail that I haven’t explored before. We both slow down when a glass building comes into view. I let go of his hand. My pace quickens when I see what’s inside. I turn the knob and the handle moves, I push hard and the door slings open. I stand in shock at what beautiful work this is. What kind of memories have been made in this chapel must be amazing. Floor-to-ceiling glass provides me several angles and views of the outside. I can see the sun setting through a back window. It glows in the distance just at the tip of an old cross at the very end. I walk down the aisle and trail my fingers along each and every one of the dark, oak pews.

“Reed, did you know this was here?”

“Graham told me I should take you down this way when I showed up, but no, I didn’t know this was the reason. But I must fu—shi— you were right all those times. I do cuss a lot if I can’t seem to not do it in a church.

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