Wish You Weren't Here (Carousel Cove Book 1) by Gracie Ruth Mitchell

Author:Gracie Ruth Mitchell [Mitchell, Gracie Ruth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-02-13T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 16

Alaric

Although I dislike bike riding in a suit, I’m grateful for the excuse to let go of Clementine’s hand. I’m grateful for the forced silence. Because my emotions are doing strange things, and proximity to this woman is not helpful.

I don’t think I’m the only one who wants space, either. Clementine is unusually quiet when we finally leave the outlook point and head back to our bicycles. Even her hair is subdued, braided quietly down her back.

“Even though I guess it’s not helpful, I’m writing down the extra things we talked about—the ones I didn’t have before,” she says when we reach the row of bikes, all locked into place. She pulls her little notepad out of her back pocket once more and starts jotting things down, using her other hand as a steadying surface. “Appreciating things for their sentimental value. That’s very human.” She finishes writing and then passes me the pen. “Can you carry this in one of your many pockets? Thanks. Tonight I’ll think of some more things you should know if you’re going to be part of the real world,” she says as she unlocks her bike and then mounts it with ease. “And I’ll check with Flossie to see if she can do without me at the shop tomorrow.”

I nod but don’t say anything, my thoughts spinning beyond my control. I’m not sure we’re approaching this the right way—but I don’t know any other way to approach it. I don’t think I’m doing enough to prove I can be a good human, and my mind tears itself apart as I try to find new ideas. I end up staring blankly at our path as we bike along, taking in our surroundings to keep myself occupied.

Carousel Cove is a colorful town—literally, in some places. We pass a seafood restaurant with red siding when we hit the pier and the boardwalk, and after that we wind through several neighborhoods full of homes in bright pastels, trimmed with white and lined with fences. The whole place is charming, and when Clementine is riding her bicycle just ahead of me, the charm only blossoms.

I don’t know if what I told her earlier was the truth or not. I don’t know if I’m attracted to her because she’s the only woman I’ve really met. It seems likely, though. And I am certain she and I could never be in a romantic relationship—my perfect logic recognizes that an age gap of several thousand years is not sustainable.

But I don’t particularly feel thousands of years old. I feel like a wobbly newborn calf, struggling on shaky legs and overwhelmed by the world I’ve found myself a part of. So even though romance is out of the question…surely friendship is all right, isn’t it? And if I’m able to become part of the human world, I’ll meet lots of people, and I’m sure I’ll find that Clementine is attractive to me only because I haven’t met anyone else.

Of course, I still won’t meet anyone close to my age.

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