Read Online Life in a Rut, Love not Included (Love Not Included series Book 1) by J.D. Hollyfield - Free Book Online
Authors: J.D. Hollyfield
Tags: Book 1, Love Not Included Series
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always loved to read. I used to love reading books when I was younger. Lose myself in sappy romance novels. I never do it anymore. I don’t know, maybe I’ll finish 100 books by the end of the year.”
“You know it’s already June, right?”
“Yeah. You’re right. OK, cross that one off.”
“OK, moving on. Number four—Find out what else is at the end of the tunnel.” This time he looks at me in amusement. “Care to elaborate?”
“Why does everyone always say there is light at the end of the tunnel? So what? What else is there? What if the light isn’t good enough for me? I don’t want to settle for just light, ya know?” We look at each other and lock eyes for some time. I can see the understanding in his eyes. He is agreeing with me. Sometimes there needs to be more than just light.
“I will take that. Next, number five—Find myself, on a budget.” His eyebrows shoot up as he looks at me again.
“Exactly what it says, Jackie boy. Find myself. Go in search of who I really am but in an unemployed and on a budget sort of way. You know those people who travel the world trying to figure out where their place is? I want to do that but possibly in this particular suburb, and for less than twenty bucks.”
Jack just laughs. He doesn’t even try to hold this one in. He simply belts out a huge gust of laughter. His laugh singing in my ears is so infectious it makes my legs squeeze together. Who is this man? And why is he sitting in my kitchen with me all gorgeous and edible and laughing like some Greek god? “You’re staring,” he says when his laughter softens.
Huh? “Huh? Oh, no I’m not.”
“Yes you were . . .”
“Listen, don’t think so highly of yourself, pal.”
“All right, all right. Moving on. Number six—Remember what falling in love feels like.” He finishes the last of that sentence in almost a whisper. His laughter dies down even more and he turns to look at me. I, on the other hand, am staring at my glass. The mood has gotten a bit more serious than I had planned and I’m pretty sure the fun is over. I turn to wrap this party up, and catch Jack holding me in his gaze, waiting intensely for a response. “Care to clarify?”
Not really. Stupid vermouth.
“Well, exactly what it says. It’s been a while since I can remember that feeling. The one with the butterflies and the sleepless nights because all you can do is think about the one who has your heart. The warmth you feel when he touches you. When things were real. When it was only you he had eyes for and you can even see that love burning in his eyes . . .”
At this point I think I just drifted. I’m not even sure I’m really talking to anyone anymore. Why would I even write that? Why would I even care? Love is such a foolish thing to want anyway. So in the end you can be crushed and made a fool? To wake up one day and realize that it was all a one-man show, and suddenly your better half becomes your roommate’s? To feel such emotion for another person and for them to rip it away and take advantage of your heart? To not even care enough to be honest . . . to just end up leaving you in the end?
I don’t realize that Jack at some point has moved from his chair and is now kneeling in front of me. Nor do I realize that at some point I began to cry.
With Jack being a gigantic six-foot-two compared to my puny five-four frame, when he kneels in front of me his head is level with mine. He takes his hand and gently wipes the tear that’s spilling down my cheek. I attempt to open my mouth to say something but nothing comes out. I am done.
I’m waving my white flag. I just can’t talk about how sad I am anymore to anyone. I attempt to push him away so I can get up and flee, but he puts his hands on each side of me face and holds me there. I try to look away out of shame that I have opened up about such a pitiful issue, and then proceed to cry about it.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—” I begin, but he hushes me
“You know it’s already June, right?”
“Yeah. You’re right. OK, cross that one off.”
“OK, moving on. Number four—Find out what else is at the end of the tunnel.” This time he looks at me in amusement. “Care to elaborate?”
“Why does everyone always say there is light at the end of the tunnel? So what? What else is there? What if the light isn’t good enough for me? I don’t want to settle for just light, ya know?” We look at each other and lock eyes for some time. I can see the understanding in his eyes. He is agreeing with me. Sometimes there needs to be more than just light.
“I will take that. Next, number five—Find myself, on a budget.” His eyebrows shoot up as he looks at me again.
“Exactly what it says, Jackie boy. Find myself. Go in search of who I really am but in an unemployed and on a budget sort of way. You know those people who travel the world trying to figure out where their place is? I want to do that but possibly in this particular suburb, and for less than twenty bucks.”
Jack just laughs. He doesn’t even try to hold this one in. He simply belts out a huge gust of laughter. His laugh singing in my ears is so infectious it makes my legs squeeze together. Who is this man? And why is he sitting in my kitchen with me all gorgeous and edible and laughing like some Greek god? “You’re staring,” he says when his laughter softens.
Huh? “Huh? Oh, no I’m not.”
“Yes you were . . .”
“Listen, don’t think so highly of yourself, pal.”
“All right, all right. Moving on. Number six—Remember what falling in love feels like.” He finishes the last of that sentence in almost a whisper. His laughter dies down even more and he turns to look at me. I, on the other hand, am staring at my glass. The mood has gotten a bit more serious than I had planned and I’m pretty sure the fun is over. I turn to wrap this party up, and catch Jack holding me in his gaze, waiting intensely for a response. “Care to clarify?”
Not really. Stupid vermouth.
“Well, exactly what it says. It’s been a while since I can remember that feeling. The one with the butterflies and the sleepless nights because all you can do is think about the one who has your heart. The warmth you feel when he touches you. When things were real. When it was only you he had eyes for and you can even see that love burning in his eyes . . .”
At this point I think I just drifted. I’m not even sure I’m really talking to anyone anymore. Why would I even write that? Why would I even care? Love is such a foolish thing to want anyway. So in the end you can be crushed and made a fool? To wake up one day and realize that it was all a one-man show, and suddenly your better half becomes your roommate’s? To feel such emotion for another person and for them to rip it away and take advantage of your heart? To not even care enough to be honest . . . to just end up leaving you in the end?
I don’t realize that Jack at some point has moved from his chair and is now kneeling in front of me. Nor do I realize that at some point I began to cry.
With Jack being a gigantic six-foot-two compared to my puny five-four frame, when he kneels in front of me his head is level with mine. He takes his hand and gently wipes the tear that’s spilling down my cheek. I attempt to open my mouth to say something but nothing comes out. I am done.
I’m waving my white flag. I just can’t talk about how sad I am anymore to anyone. I attempt to push him away so I can get up and flee, but he puts his hands on each side of me face and holds me there. I try to look away out of shame that I have opened up about such a pitiful issue, and then proceed to cry about it.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—” I begin, but he hushes me
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