Past Present Future (TODAY TONIGHT TOMORROW) by Rachel Lynn Solomon EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Rachel Lynn Solomon
- Language: English
- Genre: YA
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 7.6 MB
- Price: Free
ROWAN
ROMANCE NOVELS DON’T talk about what happens when the heroine and hero go
off to different colleges.
Of course, this is usually because both people are gainfully employed adults.
Maybe they’re lobbying for the same promotion, or one is an environmental
activist trying to protect a park from a real estate developer—and its unfairly
charming CEO. Or one is a governess to three wild rascals whose father is a
grumpy, dashing rake with a hidden vulnerability at his core.
There aren’t many rakes who attend small liberal arts schools on the East
Coast.
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“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” Neil starts, surveying my room with a grim
expression, eyes narrowed behind his glasses, “but I think you might be bringing
too many books.”
I glance up from where I’ve been pleading with my suitcase’s stubborn
zipper. “If they’re not close to me, how will I be inspired by them?”
Except he might be right, a statement I’d never have allowed to cross my mind
until three months ago, because the suitcase is too small and too full and there
are still too many things I can’t take with me. In my defense, most of my stuff is
already packed and waiting in the hall downstairs. This is my last suitcase. The
one I’ve been dreading, because of everything it symbolizes.
When the zipper doesn’t budge, I dig a hand inside and extricate two pastel
Nora Roberts paperbacks, weighing them for a moment before putting one back
on my bookshelf.
Neil lifts an eyebrow. His arms are crossed over his chest, giving him the
appearance of a stern, extremely cute statue.
With a groan, I add the other one to the shelf too.
“You said you needed help,” he reminds me. “In fact, ‘I need you to be
ruthless’ were your exact words when you sent me that SOS text this morning.”
“Yeah, but not about Nora.” I return my attention to the suitcase, and after
an initial stutter, the zipper slides shut. “You know, I think I’ve been
demonstrating extraordinary restraint.” I walk over to my closet, nudging aside a
few dresses to reveal the stack of mass-market paperbacks that don’t fit on my
bookshelf, most of them collected from garage sales and thrift stores.
Neil doesn’t even look surprised. “Ah, yes. That infamous Rowan Roth
restraint. She never exaggerates. Never bends the truth. Never romanticizes
anything.”
I give him an intense side-eye, and his faux seriousness finally cracks, gaze
softening and mouth tilting into a grin.
Late-August sun arrows through my window, illuminating the freckles on his
skin and the lovely golden undertones in his auburn hair. This time of year, it
doesn’t get dark until after ten o’clock, and we’ve been taking advantage of those
daylight hours as much as we can.
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