He pulled back, leaving me breathless and in so many pieces, I didn’t think I’d ever be whole again.
“I thought I knew what loneliness was,” he whispered, mere inches from my face. “But you can’t know lonely until you’ve lived the opposite.”
I was afraid if I breathed, if I spoke, the image would fade, like a wax statue melting into a puddle of colors on the floor. But the muscles beneath my fingers felt real; his lips had felt real.
Jake’s chest rose and fell with a heavy breath. “I haven’t spoken to anyone that I haven’t been obligated to since that night. I’ve had a lot of time to think. A lot of time to be alone—something I thought I wanted.” He paused, looking down at our interlocked hands. “I thought about you a lot. And death. My life seems to be shrouded by it.” His gaze raised again, and he shook his head slowly. “Wondering how soon that day would come for me…it felt inevitable for so many years. Then Emily died.”
I squeezed his fingers tighter instinctively. My heart thumped fiercely.
He asked, “That beautiful place we talked about, do you remember?”
A beautiful place to photograph?
In a way.
I gasped a breath that stung my lungs. “What were you really looking for?”
He gave me a smile I’d seen so many times, but never once made me so nervous. “I thought about dying, and I thought…if it’s going to happen, maybe I should choose how it ends. Choose the place, the time. The idea was peaceful to me. I’ve never believed the world owed me anything, so I could either let the world decide or I could decide for myself.”
He’d taken me to those places, places that meant something secretly truthful, somber, and achingly real for him. And he’d chosen to share those beautiful places with me. I never realized it, could never appreciate it.
“Oh, Jake.” I couldn’t find the right combination of letters and words to respond with anything else.
“Don’t look at me like that.” He leaned in a little closer. Gripped my hands a little tighter. “I never set out to do it. Only thought about it.”
That he even considered it broke my heart.
“I don’t want to die, Audra. I don’t think I actually did then. I wanted to disappear. So I did. And that was my life. Before you. Then after you were gone, I realized…I didn’t want to disappear.” Brushing my hair away from my face, his gaze dropped to my lips and back up again. “I’m not used to letting people in or letting them love me, so I’ve done a lot of shit wrong. I’ll likely still be wrong sometimes, but…I want to be with you.”
Hot tears scattered down my cheeks, breaking apart my promise not to cry. He wiped them away with his fingers, but the contact only brought on new tears.
I needed to say something, to respond in any way other than soundless sobs. So I whispered the one coherent thought I had. “You don’t hate me?”
His crooked smile brightened his eyes. “After all of this, you still think I hate you? What do I have to say to make you believe me?”
I shook my head, unable to find an answer.
“Guess you’ll have to trust me then…”
I gaped at his face, blinking furiously as my eyes filled with tears. A weird laugh climbed out of my throat. “I can’t believe I ever said that.”
He put his hands on my cheeks, tenderness, laughter, and seriousness fighting for control on his face. “I don’t hate you. I never did. Never will. Now, tell me you believe me.”
My cheeks burned where his fingers lingered, and it took several seconds to respond. “I do. I believe you.”
Jake kissed my forehead and tugged me against his chest. It gave me a feeling I thought was out of my grasp. One that filled me up, sealing some of the cracks throughout my soul. One of hope, and forgiveness, and love.
“I do have something to show you,” he said, skimming his hands down my back, pressing our bodies closer together. “But…you might hate me for it.”
“I think you’d better cut the surprise and get to it. Before I make some crazy shit up in my head.”
He laughed, the sound vibrating against my chest. “You’re right. No surprises.”
Pulling away from me, he reached into his pocket for his phone. A few taps later, he turned it around and handed it to me. “I never printed the picture, but I saved the image onto my phone.”
I stared down at the screen, tried to keep my fingers steady. “You…you asshat.”
But my own light laughter joined his deep chuckles.
“I’m sorry.”
“You’re not sorry,” I said—and he grinned. “You took a picture of me by the pool. With the glow sticks. I told you not to!”
He moved closer, reaching for the phone, but I yanked it back. I wanted to look at it, now that I was over the initial shock of what he’d done. What a traitor.
“You looked beautiful. How could I not take a picture of you?”
I looked away from the picture of me backlit with the faint glow of reds, greens, and blues, smiling at seemingly nothing. Happy as a clam—even I could see that. “You took this before you even came back from getting your camera, didn’t you?”
“Creepy in the name of art.”
I handed his phone back. “I think I’m too flattered to be creeped out.”
“Good.” He smiled, closing the distance between us. “So you don’t hate me for it?”
“Definitely not. I could never hate you.”
“Same way I could never hate you.”
Euphoria and disbelief flooded my veins. “That’s not at all the same.”
In lieu of a response, he kissed me, guiding my body close to his. Close enough to feel his heart pounding in rhythm with mine. When his lips broke away he whispered, “You’re crazy for thinking I could ever hate you. I know I said I don’t think I understand the concept of love, but I think…I think I could.”
My heart increased its manic cadence, and I was never so grateful to feel it. I placed my hand on Jake’s chest and felt his pulse beat in time with mine, thinking maybe the point of life wasn’t to live—maybe the point was to love.
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Acknowledgments
Writing may be a solitary act, but it’s utterly impossible to finish a book alone. This story wouldn’t exist without the help of countless wonderful, inspiring people, and I’m still in awe about how lucky I am to have found so many awesome individuals along my journey.
First off, I want to thank you—yes, you! Thank you for reading Jake and Audra’s story, for recommending it to friends, for writing reviews, for everything.
An enormous thanks goes to my editor, Jenn Mishler, for being SO enthusiastic about this story from day one. The love and excitement you’ve shown me has been beyond anything I ever fantasized. From your help with brainstorming, your (necessary) nitpicky comments, to all the exclamation points your emails contain—you’ve helped shape this story and these characters in ways I could never have done on my own. And another massive thanks to Jessica Snyder—your in-line comments had me laughing and made editing a bit easier. Eternal virtual hugs to you both!
And to the entire Entangled team, from the copyeditors, publicists, production editor, and everyone who played a hand in making The Heartbeat Hypothesis a possibility, thank you. You’ve made my dream a reality.
To the writing community: if I named everyone I wanted to thank, the list would be endless. Having you all in my corner makes me one happy girl. You’re the BEST. And a special thanks goes to Brenda Drake, who does so much for other writers. If not for her and her writing contests, I never would’ve found Jenn and ended up being a part of the awesomesauce Entangled family.
To my wonderful CPs and Beta readers: you’ve kept me going. You’ve reminded me why I write and why I shouldn’t simply throw in the towel when things get hard. You’ve kept me from jumping off the ledge on multiple
occasions. Katie Harris—you deserve an award for reading this book at least five times, as well as brainstorming, listening to me rant, rave, and moan. For being my biggest cheerleader and second writerly brain! I adore you. Colleen Oefelein—so many thanks for your continuous encouragement and love. I know you’ll always have my back and that you’ll always be there to answer my many random writerly questions at all hours of the day. KD Proctor—on top of critiquing this story, you still continue to gush over it, and I could never find the right words to express how much that kind of love means to me. Judi Lauren—you might not have read this story before its publication, but you’ve been there for me since the moment we met. You’ve always listened when I had my editing freak-out moments, and you’re always there to help ease me off that ledge. You’re a rock star. Jazz hands
Thank you to my family and friends. You might not fully understand what it’s like to write and publish a book, but you’ve been rooting for me the entire time (and joining in on my jazz hands celebrations)!
And lastly, but certainly not least, Trent Iffland—you’ve dealt with my crazy moments (or days, or weeks) of writing purgatory, showing me love and compassion all along the way. If I thanked you for all the things you’ve done, this could go on forever. I love you so much, and I intend to spend all my finite heartbeats with you.
About the Author
Lindsey writes romance, though sometimes there’s an added sci-fi or magical realism twist. She lives in Columbus, Ohio (where the weather is never quite right). Her Fine Arts degree has granted her a wide assortment of creative knowledge that serves as inspiration (and not much else). When she’s not crafting YA and NA stories, you’ll likely find her spending waaay too much time on Pinterest, playing a video game, or performing in a burlesque show—because she enjoys giving her introversion a worthy adversary. (Plus, it’s the closest to Broadway she’ll ever get.) The Heartbeat Hypothesis is her debut novel.
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