Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 71688 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71688 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 358(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
When I got back home, I showered and got dressed, then went downstairs to make some coffee. The house was quiet, so I thought everyone was still asleep. But once again, I found Lark perched on the kitchen counter. This time, he was eating my cereal straight from the box, and he looked like he’d just tumbled out of bed. His white-blond hair with its dark roots was gathered into two short, messy ponytails, and his black eyeliner was smeared. For some reason, he was dressed in a cropped red and white shirt that was made to look like a football jersey with the number 69 on it, a red jockstrap, and thigh-high white socks with red stripes around the top. He looked like a Harley Quinn/football player in a porno hybrid, and I had no explanation for any of that.
“Dude, no,” I said, with a grimace.
His big, brown doe eyes went wide, and he tried to hand the cereal box to me as he said, “I’m sorry, Casey. I was hungry and keep forgetting to go grocery shopping, but I’ll get you another box, and—”
“No, not that. I don’t care if you eat my cereal. But your bare ass is on the counter, and that’s just nasty.”
“Oops.” He jumped off and started to move to one of the purple vinyl kitchen chairs. Then he saw the flaw in that plan, so he stuck the cereal box on the table and grabbed the nearly empty roll of paper towels. I assumed he was going to put a paper towel on the chair before sitting down. But instead, he held the end of the roll against his hip, then wrapped himself in paper towels until he’d formed a miniskirt. He kept going until the roll was used up. Then he tucked in the loose end, sat down daintily at the table, and used the empty cardboard tube like a spyglass to look around the kitchen.
I had to ask. “Why didn’t you just put one towel down on the chair?”
“Oh. I didn’t think of that.”
“And the outfit? What’s that about?”
He looked confused. “What outfit?”
“Never mind.” After I got the coffee brewing, I asked him, “Do you want some toast and scrambled eggs?”
He looked at me through the tube with his other eye pressed shut. “I’d love that. Thank you.” I honestly had no idea how he’d survived to the age of twenty-six.
After I put together a quick breakfast, I set a plate of eggs and toast and a glass of orange juice in front of him, and then I took a seat with a cup of coffee. He put the tube down, looked at what was in front of him and in front of me, and asked, “You’re not having any?”
“No. I’m expected at my brother and his boyfriend’s house in a little while for brunch, so I don’t want to spoil my appetite.”
“I didn’t mean for you to cook me a whole meal,” he murmured. “I thought you were going to have the same thing and just decided to make some extra for me.”
“It’s fine. That was easy enough to make, and you should have a better meal than just some cereal.”
Lark’s dark eyes met mine. “But that’s all you made yourself for dinner last night, after working a long shift at the hospital. Why do you take good care of other people, but not yourself?”
Okay, wow. I really hadn’t expected that flash of insight from the man-child who’d just finished mummifying his ass. “I was just tired last night.”
“You do that all the time, though. I always see you doing nice things for other people, but never for yourself. I suppose that’s something you learned by being a nurse, but I think you should really try putting yourself first sometimes. If there’s something you want, let yourself have it. You deserve that, Casey.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. You should eat, before it gets cold.”
Lark polished off the food like it was his first hot meal in weeks. Hell, maybe it was. Once he finished, he carried his dishes to the sink, found a bottle of cleanser, and sprayed down the spot on the counter where he’d been sitting. Then he looked around, but didn’t find any paper towels.
I could practically see the lightbulb go off over his head as he remembered his makeshift skirt. Instead of tearing off a layer of towels, he hopped up onto the counter and scooted across it sideways. He seemed to be proud of himself for thinking of that as he hopped off again.
I took a moment to process that, and then I finished my coffee and got up to take my mug to the sink. Lark intercepted me and took it from my hands as he said, “I’ll do the dishes. It’s the least I can do after you made me food.”