Every Little Thing

Every Little Thing

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WpMetadataReadLengkap Rab, Nov 8, 20172j 58m
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This year was supposed to be simple: survive the rest of high school, save up as much money as possible, move back to California and become roommates with Stacey. That was the plan, it was all set from the moment she landed in New York. But of course, the universe had to come and rearrange everything. * * * There I sat in the cabin of a small fly-bridge boat as Josh sailed us to who knows where. Gripping the cushion of my seat I glanced from my phone to different spots around me. It had been more than half an hour since I had sent the text to the group chat. No one had called me or texted me and I could feel my hopes being crushed. Here I thought this small group of people actually cared about me. I should have known better. Minutes later Josh emerged and leaned against the door frame. He smiled at me and I felt something flip inside my rib cage. My mind couldn't figure out why Josh's presence affected my heart beat. When he appeared my hands became sweaty and my stomach fluttered. "Ready?" He asked in a velvet tone. Crossing my arms over my chest I raised an eyebrow at him. Where exactly had he brought us to?"Follow me," he left the frame of the door and I followed him. Snaking around to the front of the boat I saw blankets and pillows laid over the front. * * * Please excuse my sorry excuse of a summary and just please read the story instead. Thank you.
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Caught up in the sins and glamour of high society life, Astoria became the girl no one could trust. In order to return to grace, she must do the unthinkable: find a husband before the end of the year... before her mother chooses for her. With only 3 months remaining in the year, she decided to return to the limelight and reengages of high society life. But with everything she needed to build a future, only one question rings in her mind as she faces her fate: was it worth the price? __ The lighting was dull, but I could still see the shadows of his strong jawline, and the broad, muscular build he hid under his suit jacket. I wished I could see more of him-I wished I could see his face. I was intrigued by him, by the man who couldn't seem to look away. I blinked a few times before turning my cheek, suddenly conscious of the way his hidden eyes bore into me; I could almost feel the intensity of his gaze burning holes into my skull. Maybe he knew who I was; maybe he was one of the people I had crossed, they all looked the same to me. I had too many skeletons in my closet to be able to keep track of who was an ally and who was an enemy. If he was the latter, God help me. It was just the two of us outside now on the once compact Parisian streets. We were completely alone. He could do or say whatever he wanted and no one would bare witness. And yet, neither of us moved, too afraid to disrupt the perfect serenity of the moment. I opened my mouth to speak, but I could not bring myself to utter a word. For the first time, I was scared to know what someone was thinking about me. I wanted to know the type of woman he saw staring back at him. I hoped he saw the woman I was pretending to be: the regal, glamorous, refined young lady I'd been bred to become. But somehow I knew he saw me differently. The man who could not look away could see everything, and I just hoped, for the both of us, that he saw how sorry I was.

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