Read Online The Light Between Us by Beth Morey - Free Book Online

coffee shop for nearly an hour already, with barely fifty new words written.  All she could think of was the ache throbbing in her throat.  She wanted to open her mouth and howl her hurt, her rage at the man who had lifted her hopes against all her misgivings, against all the odds, only to smash them the way she wanted to smash the mug.  And he'd been calling her since she'd phoned him and heard that woman's voice speaking over the line.  But what was there for him to say?  She hadn't answered a single one of his calls.
     
    And for some reason, to add to her frustration, she couldn't translate all this into words, into her novel.  She massaged her temples, scowling.  This was perfect fodder for romance writing, wasn't it?  She was living out the spurned damsel trope she'd read of in so many books.  Why couldn't she take Derek and ingloriously immortalize his toying ways in her story?
     
    Ruth moved to take a sip from the mug again, then remembered it was empty.  Her gaze slid toward the barista, who lazily wiped the counter he stood behind while chatting with another customer.  She considered ordering a second round.  But she didn't want another coffee, not this late, not even decaf.  The coffee shop was just about empty, with only a few patrons opting for a quiet night with their computers or books. 
     
    One of her fellow – losers , she thought, before shoving the sour word away – was sitting just one table over from her own, a fair-haired willowy man who looked to be about her age, and he'd been throwing glances her way for the better part of her stay.  Ruth gritted her teeth as she felt his eyes on her back for the umpteenth time.  Her skin crawled and writhed beneath his looking, and before she had decided to do so, she'd spun to face him.
     
    “ What?” she spat.  “What do you want?”
     
    The man's hazel eyes widened beneath his shaggy blonde mop.  “Oh, uh, sorry, I didn't mean to bug you.  I just have a penchant for people watching.  I'm really sorry.” 
     
    Ruth felt her ears redden as she saw his embarrassment.  She shook her head.  “Sorry.  I shouldn't have said anything.”
     
    She turned back to her computer with its smugly blinking cursor, but the guy leaned forward.  “It gets away from me, sometimes.  The people watching, I mean.  I get lost in it, you know?”
     
    Ruth held her breath for a moment, torn between giving him the cold shoulder in the name of her writing, or engaging with him.  She glanced at her phone, and a sick, hot feeling swept through her as the memory of the woman's voice answering at Derek's number sprang back to the forefront of her mind.  No, she didn't want to try to write, when she knew she'd only spend the rest of her night nursing her hurt.  Holding her breath, she turned in her chair back toward the blonde man. 
     
    “ I get that,” she said.  “People watching can be so much fun.”
     
    He smiled, and in spite of her freshly wounded heart, the warmth of it tugged at something in her, and she couldn't help but smile back.
     
    “ Are you a writer?” he asked, nodding at her notebook and army of pens flanking the open computer. 
     
    She shrugged.  “Trying to be.  It's not like I have anything published.  And tonight it's not going so well.”
     
    “ I don't know, I see some words.  It looks like you're a writer to me.”  His hazel eyes glinted.  “Publication doesn't make you more of a writer than you already are in this moment.”
     
    “ Oh,” she said, words eluding her.  She traced over the wood grain of the table with a finger.  “That might be the best writing encouragement anyone has ever given me.”
     
    He ducked his head as if tipping an invisible hat at her.  “At your service,” he said, extending a hand toward her.  “I'm Sam.”
     
    “ Hi, Sam. I'm Ruth.”
     
    “ Nice to meet you, Ruth the writer.”  He winked, and the smile returned to her lips. 
     
    She nodded at the laptop