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Please, Kyle. Don't give up on us. He picked up his bag from the ground and slung it over his shoulder.
I stood in the middle of the living room and looked at the closed door as tears escaped my eyes. Kyle and I had been together since sophomore year of college. Kyle was a good-looking guy with his six-foot stature and medium build.
He wasn't exactly eye candy, but he was cute. He always kept his jet black hair perfectly combed, and his dark brown eyes reminded me of one of my favorite things in the world-chocolate.
Kyle was a person whose presence lit up the room. His charm and romance was what had swept me off my feet. He studied Accounting, while I studied Art. It wasn't too long after we graduated that his cousin got him a job at the large accounting firm where he was employed.
This was how we ended up moving from Michigan to New York. Kyle worked full-time as an accountant and made pretty decent money, so I was able to take on a part-time job at a record company and finish painting the pictures that I promised the art gallery. We rented a one-bedroom apartment that was small, but it had been our home for the past year, and it made us happy-at least I thought it did.
I took my teary-eyed self and sat on the couch, curled in a ball, and cried myself to sleep. I hadn't been sleeping long when I was startled by a knock on the door.
I sat up and looked around the room, eyes swollen and red. I got up from the couch and stumbled to open the door. Peyton always seemed to know when I needed her most. She threw her hands up in the air. I thought I was going to have to break down the door.
I motioned for her to come in as she pushed her way through and set a large brown bag on the table. She removed the boxes of Chinese food and set them on the table. Peyton sighed heavily as she walked over and sat next to me.
He wanted me to come over to check on you and make sure you were okay. Who the fuck did he think he was, sending my best friend over to see if I was okay? I thought as anger burned inside me. Peyton gave me a sympathetic smile and walked to the kitchen to grab plates and silverware for the food sitting on the table.
I couldn't stop thinking about Kyle and how he just left. We were never apart for more than a couple of days, and now we'd be apart forever. Once again, I was alone. I knew why he decided to leave, and for that reason, I hated him.
I gave him every opportunity to tell me the truth, but he couldn't even look me in the eye and do that. He was a coward, and I had no room in my life for cowards. Even though I felt sick to my stomach, I got up and made my way to the table as Peyton put some food on my plate. You need to focus on something else. You need to finish your paintings and get them over to the art gallery so that people can find out who Ellery Lane truly is," she said, waving her fork around.
I smiled because I knew she was right; if there was one way that I could escape the hurt and loneliness, it was through my paintings.
She reached over, put her arm around me, and gave me a squeeze. The minute she asked, "May I help you? One thing about Peyton was her personality; it was way bigger than her five-foot-two, size zero body. She always sported the perfect look with her long, straight brown hair and perfectly placed makeup that enhanced her bright blue eyes. I didn't think I'd ever seen her dress in a pair of sweatpants. For her, it was all about style with skirts and cute little tops.
There wasn't a shortage of guys when Peyton was around.
They were always flirting with her, but she had yet to find the perfect man to give her heart to. I didn't feel like eating, but I knew I had to appease Peyton, or she wouldn't leave me alone.
I think I'll go take a bath. I turned the water on and poured a capful of bubble bath in its stream. I twisted my long, blonde hair up and clipped it to prevent it from getting wet. I climbed into the bubble-filled bathtub and slid down until my head was resting on the bath pillow behind me.
I lay there, closed my eyes, and tried to think of a plan, but I was too grief-stricken, and I needed the proper amount of time to wallow in self-pity before moving on with my life as a single female.
By the time I got out of the bathtub, Peyton had everything cleaned up. She left me a text message saying, "Elle, get some rest and call me if you need anything. I'll call you tomorrow. Love you always. My mother passed away from cancer when I was six, and my father died right before my eighteenth birthday.
Now I understand what Connor going through and what is his feeling toward Ellery. Again I wish the wording could be edited better with a more dramatic wording. Some words are too stiff and too rigid. This book was There was absolutely no need for this book to exist. Connor's POV Could have been shown in the first book, especially since there really wasn't much to it. As for the added info in the tale end of 2, that could have also easily been added to 1.
I feel this story is in no way worthy of a trilogy and is only meant as a money grab. There is no writing style unless "amateur" would be considered a st I gave this book one star because less wasn't an option.
There is no writing style unless "amateur" would be considered a style. The author makes consistent and repetitive grammatical errors as well as loses tense throughout her paragraphs.