The Consequences of Falling: A Small Town Romance (Sailor Ridge Book 1) by Liliana Rose Hastings

Author:Liliana Rose Hastings [Hastings, Liliana Rose]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-02-26T00:00:00+00:00

the boy named plut0, and moments

Sometimes, Nova thinks that Atlas reminds her of Pluto. Whimsical, filled with ice and dust, a bit misunderstood, but Pluto—Atlas—is far larger than he seems. When she was younger, hardly old enough to sleep without a night light on, Nova remembers her mother telling her a bedtime story about the planet left behind—that was what Marjorie had called Pluto—she spoke of how small the planet was, insignificant compared to others but, for some reason, it stuck out.

Atlas Hale reminds Nova of Pluto—misunderstood, a bit cold, sort of icy, but even in his insignificance, he stands out among others. Perhaps that is why he seems to be a constant thought in her mind, even now, as she sits among the crowd in Connies, listening to her friend’s boisterous laughter and hearty snorts. Among the fallen leaves and the soft patter of rain, Nova thinks only of him. About his smile, the quaint smile he showed around his family and friends, about the gentle furrow in his brow that appeared so suddenly toward the night’s end. She thinks about his hand, tethered to his side, twitching—how she wished he would reach out and hold her own.

Nova found herself wishing these past few days. She hopes for longer moments beneath his haunted gaze, wishing for anything that would tie her to him. In the time it took to close the gate to the Hawthorne’s backyard that night and in the steps that followed toward her car, Nova felt the sudden change. She felt the shudder of her heart in her chest and an ache that traveled up her spine. Somewhere, amid the car ride back to her apartment, in her steps up the stairs, and in the moments it took for her to remove her coat—Nova realized that she misses him.

She misses Atlas.

She paused at the thought, dismissing it, and slipped her shoes off. Somewhere, in the minutes it had taken for her to close her bedroom door, she realized she liked the sound of his laughter. Somewhere, among the heavy steam of her midnight shower, Nova realized that his cologne still lingered in strands of her hair. Notes of tonka bean and clary sage clouding her senses with every circular motion.

It wasn’t until her duvet surrounded her body. The lights dimmed within her room alongside the soft murmurs from her sound machine that fueled the air. Nova realized a series of very complicated facts: the first being that she feels something for Atlas Hale—the second that it was far more profound than the bucket list, far deeper than the friendship and fated laughter. It was deeper than trips to Margot’s and walks in Chesterfield Park. She feels something. The third had been that she still has his jacket, and the fourth—that she had broken the one promise she had made him to him.

“Don’t fall in love with me,” he had said.

“Promise,” she had uttered.

Though it wasn’t love, not at all, not really, but it was something.

It was something far more than she had ever meant to feel.

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