Come to Me Recklessly Read Online Free PDF

day. Late Friday afternoon, I turned the key to the lock of our little house, my feet dragging as I went inside. I dumped my purse and keys on the side table next to the door. Blowing an exhausted breath from my lungs, I flopped back on the couch.
    As much as I loved those kids, they were filled with more energy than any one person should have. And I swore, every time they touched me, they zapped a little of my own energy and used it for themselves.
Hyper
didn’t come close to describing a room full of five-year-olds.
    From the table, my phone chimed with
that
ring. I smiled and dragged myself up, never too tired for him. I grabbed my phone and settled back onto the couch.
    I opened Snapchat and pressed my finger to the waiting message.
    Stewart’s face lit up the entire screen, the biggest puppy-dog eyes begging from the image he’d captured.
    Coming to see me Sunday?
 
    Grinning, I snapped back an even bigger, eager smile, pretending it didn’t hurt to see him this way, instead showing him how excited I was to hear from him.
    I wouldn’t miss it.
 
    Stewart and I had a standing Sunday date. He rarely felt up to getting out of the house, so I brought over his favorite foods, praying something would seem appealing to him. I’d just hang out with him all afternoon, sitting on his bed and watching funny videos on his laptop or playing video games, even though they weren’t exactly my thing and I was terrible at them.
    But for Stewart?
    Video games suddenly became my very favorite hobby.
    I dropped my phone to the floor and sank into the comfort of the plush cushions of the couch, my legs stretched out and propped up as I closed my eyes and let myself drift away.
    When my phone dinged from the floor, I jumped, my eyes blinking rapidly as I tried to make sense of my surroundings. The room had dimmed as the sun had declined, evening filtering in through the loose, shimmery drapes hanging across the window.
    I rubbed my face. Guess I’d been more tired than I’d thought. When I ran my finger across the front of my phone, I saw I’d been out cold for two hours. Then something inside me went
cold
when I saw the waiting message that had stirred me, but it was the kind of cold that burned and flamed, a warning of something unknown that I felt approaching like a building storm.
    So maybe the text was just from Aly.
    It still stopped my heart, as if her words were an extension of him, a tether that led me right back into the past.
    Coffee tomorrow morning? 10ish?
 
    I clutched my phone, warring with my decision though it had already been made. It was foolishness to the extreme, I knew, putting myself in this position, but I couldn’t stop my fingers from tapping across the screen.
    Would love to. Where?
 
    Five seconds later, my phone dinged with her reply.
    Cory’s? Great coffee and even better pastries ;)
 
    Nerves twisted my stomach, and I quickly typed my response.
    Sounds perfect to me.
 
    Perfect and completely ludicrous.
    Great! C U then.
 
    For a few seconds, I held my phone out in front of me, trying to convince myself to text her back, to tell her something had suddenly come up, some ridiculous excuse that she would know was exactly that.
    An excuse.
    Something like I’d suddenly moved out of state, never to return again.
    Instead I jumped when my phone suddenly lit up with a message from Ben. I grimaced as I read it.
    Picked a place for dinner. At Firebird’s by the mall. Will be waiting.
 
    Reluctantly, I stood, gathered myself, and forced my feet to carry me out the door.
     
    The next morning, I slowly pulled into the parking lot where the small mom-and-pop coffee shop rested in a tight corner of the popular plaza. The entire shopping center was packed on a Saturday morning, and I cautiously made my way through the crowded parking lot, searching for a spot. I pretended that I wasn’t relieved, that I wasn’t thankful for those few extra minutes that bought me a little more time.
    Why I was so nervous,