Titolo: The rules of regret
Autore: Megan Squires
Genere: New adult contemporaneo
Trama: “Life doesn’t come with a blueprint, which makes it hard to have any plans.”
Nineteen-year-old Darby Duncan is finally on her own. Her boyfriend of six years just left for a high-powered summer internship, though in reality he’s been absent for much longer than that. This newfound freedom wasn’t a part of Darby’s plans, but as she’s come to discover, plans only exist on paper, not in reality.
And guys like Torin Westbrook aren’t supposed to exist in reality, either. But he does, with his disheveled curly hair, irresistible dimples, and endearingly quirky habit of reciting quotes from classic movies and ancient thinkers. When Darby meets Torin as a fellow counselor at the survival camp she impulsively applies to, she’s certain his main goal is to turn her world upside-down.
But Darby’s not sure she can adapt to Torin’s ways of viewing his past and the tragedies he’s faced. Because she’s had her own share of heartache, too, and as much as she wants to believe that it’s all been for a purpose, her grief hasn’t allowed her to get to that point. Yet the more Darby is around Torin, the more she craves the freedom to break out of her carefully constructed routine and mindset and fall into something new.
She’s just not sure that she should be falling for Torin along the way.
Trama: “Life doesn’t come with a blueprint, which makes it hard to have any plans.”
Nineteen-year-old Darby Duncan is finally on her own. Her boyfriend of six years just left for a high-powered summer internship, though in reality he’s been absent for much longer than that. This newfound freedom wasn’t a part of Darby’s plans, but as she’s come to discover, plans only exist on paper, not in reality.
And guys like Torin Westbrook aren’t supposed to exist in reality, either. But he does, with his disheveled curly hair, irresistible dimples, and endearingly quirky habit of reciting quotes from classic movies and ancient thinkers. When Darby meets Torin as a fellow counselor at the survival camp she impulsively applies to, she’s certain his main goal is to turn her world upside-down.
But Darby’s not sure she can adapt to Torin’s ways of viewing his past and the tragedies he’s faced. Because she’s had her own share of heartache, too, and as much as she wants to believe that it’s all been for a purpose, her grief hasn’t allowed her to get to that point. Yet the more Darby is around Torin, the more she craves the freedom to break out of her carefully constructed routine and mindset and fall into something new.
She’s just not sure that she should be falling for Torin along the way.
#1
“You’ve never flown
on a plane?”
“No,” he retorted. “I’ve never had
the need, or the opportunity.”
“We
need to see what we can do to change that.”
I’d flown in
planes more times than I could count. I couldn’t
imagine being nineteen-years-old and never having seen the earth from a bird’s eye view.
Torin was seriously missing out; from what I knew of him so far, flying would
totally be his thing. Maybe it was my turn to help him with his unknowns.
“Anything
else you’ve never done?” I jeered,
intentionally trying to rile him up because I liked what it did to him when he
got flustered.
“I’ve never had
sex,” Torin shot
out, “but I’m fairly
certain I’m not afraid of
that, either.”
Record scratch.
Wait…what?
I tossed the stare from my face quickly and attempted to
reclaim my composure, but it was completely lost. My eyes dropped to my hands,
which had totally mangled our poor cootie catcher. It was nothing but a
crumpled wad of paper in my clenched grasp. Torin pulled it from my fingers to
smooth it out, grinning widely like he was proud that he caught me off guard,
like maybe that was his plan.
“Excuse
me?”
“Don’t worry,” he smiled, his
dimples deep-set, making something deep within my stomach flip-flop. “Unlike the flying,
I’m not expecting
you to ‘see what you
can do to change that.’
"
I tried to swallow quietly, but I was certain he heard
it. Like that awkward moment when you watched a movie with your parents and a
full on sex-scene starts up on the screen. It was mortifying—humiliating on
a whole new level. You tried not to move—tried
not to even breathe—because
the last thing you wanted was your mom thinking you were actually alive and
watching it. It was like you played dead. Torin’s
recent confession sort of made me want to play dead. I was
possum-on-the-side-of-the-highway road kill and rigor mortis had already set
in.
“Put
this on.”
“Where?” I squeaked,
reluctantly taking the red and white polkadot two-piece from his hold. Our
fingers brushed and hiseyes caught mine in an unsure glance.
“I
don’t know, behind
a tree or something.”
He continued digging through my backpack, pulling out all of my clothes and the
blanket crammed inside. He took them to a nearby rock and spread them out onto
its surface like he was a maid with a clothesline and a load of laundry to
finish. I really wished I hadn't fallen in that creek. Everything was soaked.
“I’m not changing
out here.” I wrapped my
arms across my chest, humiliation spreading throughout my body. Usually people’s cheeks turned
red when they were embarrassed. I was fairly certain every inch of my skin was
blushing brightpink, rivaling the reddened hue of Porky the Pig.
Torin cocked his head and thumbed his chin—something I was
beginning to notice he did a lot of—and
his dimples eased onto his cheeks. “You
do realize this is a survival
overnighter, don’t
you? There are some things you need to let go of for survival’s sake. Modesty
is one of those things.”
“If
I remember correctly, yesterday you pretty much promised me that you’d keep me
alive. And I’d
like to keep my modesty. I really don’t
want to change into this, Torin.”
He drug his hands through his hair and sighed my
direction, sensing the sincerity in my plea. “Darby,
it may currently be blazing hot out, but tonight it will get down into the 40’s. And as of
right now, you have no dry clothes to sleep in and your overnight blanket is
full of about ten pounds of water. You’ve
run out of options.”
I pinched my lips together. What I wouldn’t give to be
lounging on the couch back at the rental with Sonja, getting fatwith our beer
and our Cheetos. Even the hope of visiting Lance didn’t make any of this worthwhile. I
sort of wished Torin would have just let me float out there in the river a bit
longer. Maybe I would have passed out and drowned. That would be slightly less
humiliating than what I feared was in store for me at this summer camp.
“At
least turn around.”
Torin looked up at me from the granite slab where he’d arranged my
clothes. “What?”
“Please
turn around. No peeking.”
He shook his head and returned his focus to his work. “I’m not gonna
peek. Off limits.”
“I'm
off limits?”
He stepped back and surveyed the spread of fabric, then
moved a pair of my socks so they didn’t
overlap with the t-shirt underneath. “Off
limits. Taken.”
His pale eyes pulled up to mine. “And
even if you weren’t,
you’re not really
my type, Darby.”
Insult sucker-punched me in the gut. “Geez,” I murmured,
feeling the hurtful sting of his comment. “Then
by all means, please stare away. Take pictures if you like.”
“That’s not what I
meant.” Torin stepped
back from the rock and fiddled with his belt. Before I could register what he
was doing, he’d
unzipped his fly and was down to his boxers, pulling one leg, then the other
from his cargo shorts. My throat went dry and I tried hard to swallow, but it
was all sandpaper and it scratched my tongue. Where did his pants go? And why
was I staring at his underwear that was covered in hundreds of yellow smiley faces,
repeated over and over in adizzying, disorienting pattern? Seriously, why were
his boxers smiling at me?
#3
“I
don’t think that
stellar tooth brushing of mine should go to waste,” he blurted during a commercial
break of Jeopardy. I’d
been tucked under the cover of the sheet while he rested on top, so when he
turned to face me he’d
inadvertently pulled the fabric underneath him.
“Argh,” I growled as
the sheets tourniqueted me.
“I’m sorry!” Torin laughed,
and tossed off the covers to join me. It felt like the sleep sack again, but
more intentional,because in this moment, he knew I was there with him. “Is that better?” He slipped
down next to me, tugging the duvet up to our ears. I wasn’t really cold,
but being under the comforter with him made me understand why it was named
that: comforter. Because that was the exact sensation I experienced.
Overwhelming comfort with the boy that I’d
just discovered I more than likely loved.
“My
mouth really does taste amazing right now, Darby.”
He pulled at the fabric draped over us. I slid toward him an inch, and our legs
pressed closer together. Fabric on fabric, with even more cloaked over us. “You should
taste it for yourself.”
“Oh
yeah?” I teased, and
he moved forward. Our arms tangled. Skin on skin. Not much, but enough to
change the way my heartthrummed inside my chest.
“Yes.
And really, to get the full sensation, you’re
gonna have to use your tongue. It seriously is all Double Mint Gum status fresh
up in here.” Torin waved a
hand over his mouth and smiled so widely I worried for a moment that the newly
formed scab on his face would burst.
“This
is how you want our first kiss to happen?”
I asked, hesitant because it didn’t
feel romantic or spontaneous the way first kisses should. Though in reality, I
supposed it wasn’t
a first kiss at all. A third, but the first one that we’d both intentionally desired. And
the first one that was okay for us to have together. For all intents and
purposes, we were about to have our first kiss. I started to freak out.
“This
is how I want everything about you. Like this. Making the mundane monumental.” He scooted
closer. “Seriously.
Everything you touch turns to gold, Darby.”
“Ah,
there it is,”
I said, nodding, poking at him beneath the covers.
“What?”
“Your
plagiarizing. It’s
been a while, but I see you’re
back at it.”
Torinshrugged indifferently. “So what? I like quotes.”
“I
like your originality,”
I countered, because I did. I liked when Torin was just Torin; when I knew the
things he said came from somewhere deep inside him, not from some surface level
of past memorization.
“It
is as though a thousand little garden gnomes chewed up mint-flavored crystals
and then blew them into my mouth. In Antarctica.”
I burst into laughter so loud I thought the neighbor on the other side of the
adjoining wall might report me to the front desk. “That was a Torin original. You
like?”
“I
love,” I giggled,
instinctively covering my mouth with my hand.
#4
“Stomachache?”
“Nah.
I’m fine.”
“Butterflies?” he smiled.
“What?”
Yes, there was a growing swarm of butterflies ramming
about in my ribcage, but Ihadn’t
expected Torin to not only acknowledge it, but point it out, too.
“Do
I give you butterflies?”
“No,
Torin,” I lied through
my teeth. “You don’t give me
butterflies.”
“You
sure? 'Cause you give me bumblebees.”
“Bumblebees?” I angled my
head his direction, but we were close and if I moved any further our noses
would touch.
“Yes.
Butterflies are too light and fluttery.”
He must have moved because suddenly that gap was nearly nonexistent. In was definitely not the same as on. “You
make me feel like I have a freaking hornets nest buzzing and stinging at my
insides.”
“That’s a weird thing
to say.”
“But
it’s true. It’s practically
painful to be around you.”
“And
that’s a mean thing
to say.”
His hand dropped onto my cheek and I went instantly
rigid, like there was some electrifying jolt that spread out from his
fingertips. “It’s not a bad
kind of painful. It’s
a good kind.”
“How
can any pain be good, Torin?”
But the searing heat of his palm on my face answered the question. The physical
contact was extreme in a way that bordered on painful, but that had to be
because it was something that couldn’t
be realized, something that couldn’t
come to fruition. The fact that things would stop at just this, that was what
caused the bittersweet intensity. It was the absence of what we wanted to
happen that truly brought about thereal pain.
“You
tell me. How does this make you feel?”
He inched his face closer to mine, his hand still laying against the slope of
my jaw. “When I do
this... “ He titled his
head just slightly, his lips lined up with mine. “When
I get this close, but stay this far away... “
Not moving another millimeter, he spoke softly, “
...does it give you butterflies, or does it give you bumblebees?”
I gasped, then became overwhelmingly embarrassed by the
fact that I’d just
literally gasped at the thought of kissing him.
“Right,” he said
coolly, running the tip of his tongue across his bottom lip, leaving it there
in the corner edge of his mouth, nearly biting down on it. “I thought so.”
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