Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 43072 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 215(@200wpm)___ 172(@250wpm)___ 144(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43072 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 215(@200wpm)___ 172(@250wpm)___ 144(@300wpm)
“A seven-hundred-dollar apology is a lot. This only makes me feel indebted to him,” I reply.
“And him getting you off, or almost getting you off, let me say, doesn’t either?” Journey lays it down for me. God, I should have never ever admitted to that happening. She’s not going to let me live it down.
“Maybe, but I mean, I stopped it before it started. How am I supposed to say thanks but no thanks to a vet bill? Find out where he lives and mail him a seven-hundred-dollar check? Well, it’d have to be cash, seeing how no one uses the paper product anymore, and then I’d have to hand-deliver that. We all know how unimpressive the mail delivery service is these days,” I ramble on.
“You have his number. Venmo, duh,” Tyra interjects, always thinking around my dramatic ways.
“That’s true, though I really didn’t want that either, but it was written on the receipt, and the lady at the vet clinic wouldn’t take no for an answer. I swear she had stars in her eyes, like it was a Madden and Hendrix love affair.” Jolene’s head is on my lap, body lying out the length of the area rug, my hand lazily running through her fur. She was pretty chill before the surgery. Now she’s even more so. I mean, even when I take her out back in my little fenced-in yard, all she wants to do is go potty and come right back in, not even attempting to bask in the sun like she usually would.
“I’ll be back. I need to use the bathroom,” Journey says, getting up from her place. I raise my hand telling her to go on. My place is a one-bedroom, one-bathroom one-story rental. The selling part of this place was the small backyard and the garage to park your car, an absolute necessity with the Nevada heat.
“Seriously, I think you should call him. At least to say thank you,” Tyra says, God, I love that she and Mace got the happily ever after they deserved. They both had to work through it. I mean, who do you know who gets a divorce and then somehow gets remarried after working through their problems? It’s unheard of.
“Yeah, or I could text him instead, block my number so he can’t continue being a stalker and seeing Madden every time I turn around,” I half joke. If it weren’t ten o’clock in the morning, I’d consider day drinking. Even I have my limits, though.
“Don’t do that. You’ll look like a weirdo,” Celeste responds. I lay my head down on the coffee table, ready to beat it against the marble top. A lot of my furniture is from Celeste’s place. When she moved in with Wylder, she gave me the opportunity to scavenge what she didn’t want. I just so happened to need a few things, and try as I might to pay her, she wouldn’t allow it. And these women claim I’m independent. They’re just as bad as I am. Maybe not with the snark and attitude that I give off, but they have a way about them just as well.
“What do we have here?” Journey comes out of my room, which is where the bathroom is as well. Small house problems, right? I don’t look at first, trying to figure out why Celeste and Tyra are laughing. Even Jolene lifts her head, looking more excited than she has in days.
“Oh, that. Well, I told you the incident that occurred. That was a parting souvenir. Tack it on the list of shit I need to give Madden back,” I pull the lie out of my ass.
“Really? So it was, what? Lying on top of your made bed, near the pillows, looking wrinkled from a night of sleep? You might be fooling yourself, Hendrix, but you’re not fooling us.” I’m seriously taking back being thankful for having a friend and boss like Journey to tell you how it is. She’s throwing me under the bus, putting it in forward, and then backing up all on top of me.
“That doesn’t mean anything.” I huff out a breath. There’s no getting away from this, not at all. Journey can see right through my bullshit, and the other girls can, too.
“Remember when I said you protest too much to not be interested? This is one of those times. You can’t be a bitch to someone in front of their face and then behind their back sleep in their shirt, probably while getting off, too.” Nico has clearly gotten to my friend in talking way more openly about sex.
“And who says I do that?” I play dumb or try to.
“You know I kept Mace’s sweatshirt for the longest time, only wore it on the nights when the yearning was unbearable. Nobody is blaming you, Hendrix. Seriously, we all want to see you happy. To have someone like we do, and honestly, I think this Madden guy may be the one who ticks off all of those boxes you’re adamant about being checked.” Tyra is reminding me of the list I made one day during one of our drunken girls’ nights out.