Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 129460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 647(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
I’m proud he is taking steps to break away from his shame and that he is working hard to fix himself. He knows what happened to him isn’t his fault, and it has me hopeful one day I can do the same.
My thoughts return to the present when the bathroom door cracks open. Jake is only eight, but he looks like he just aced his driving test.
“Don’t tell me you circled the ball five times?”
I act like I’m heartbroken when he nods. I’m not. My insides are tap dancing, but I can’t let him know that he kicked my ass by two rotations, or he’ll never let me live it down.
“You better go get your shoes on. The toy store closes in forty-five minutes.”
As he races for the bedroom he shares with another two boys, I pull my buzzing cell phone out of my pocket. I wonder if the walls of Alexander House have ears when Jess’s name pops up on the screen. We’ve spoken a handful of times since her birthday last month, but it has nothing on the contact we once had before I fucked everything up by running from my fears instead of facing them head-on.
Jess was the friend I never realized I needed and the savior I’m still not sure I deserve.
Jess: Is Keira okay?
While wondering if she’s been hit with one of the numerous bouts of jealousy that smacked into me when she updated Octavia about the dates her aunts organize for her, I reply.
Me: I’m assuming she is. But that’s only a guess since I haven’t been in contact with her in months.
When my reply doesn’t have ellipses trickling across the screen, I type out another reply.
Me: Why?
Her response is too fast for me not to imagine her holding her phone, awaiting my response.
Jess: No reason.
Me: Glad to know I’m not the only one still shit at lying.
No reply.
No ellipses.
And one hundred percent no patience to continue acting like I’m not desperate to hear her voice instead of imagining it while reading her messages.
Jake nods eagerly when I hold my finger in the air, asking for a minute. Once he’s downstairs updating Octavia on his new record, I dial a familiar number before squashing my phone to my ear.
Jess answers a handful of rings later.
“Figured I should call you. Save you falsifying your tone over text.”
The huskiness of her reply reveals she’s struggling not to giggle. “Now isn’t a good time. Can I call you later?”
“Are you okay?”
She sounds stressed.
“Yeah. Just having an out-of-body experience.”
That wouldn’t usually instigate jealousy, but my wires have been haywire the past couple of years to unscramble them in a matter of months. “Do you need Octavia to call with an excuse again?”
I just laid my hand out on the table for all to see, and Jess knows it. I can hide any emotion but jealousy. And when it involves Jess, it is a free-for-all.
“I can’t believe I ever thought stalking wasn’t on your resume.” Her reply makes me smile, then her confirmation loosens the tightness in my jaw. “I’m not on a date. I just saw Serenity.”
My lips purse. That’s her recluse friend. The one who hadn’t left her house in years. “How did she seem?”
“Really good.” I smile when she laughs again. I haven’t heard her this happy in years. “She was with Fitz.”
“Fitz, Fitz? As in anal-retentive Fitz?”
“Yep! That Fitz. They’re engaged. She just sent details for her bachelorette party to me.” Jealousy smacks back into me full force when she mutters, “Let’s hope the strippers know what they’re doing. My tips jar is overflowing.”
“No one with ‘stripper’ on their business card will be up to your standards. They’re the guys just in it for the money.”
“Ohh…” She groans down the line, gaining more than the attention of my heart. “Hence, the stripper detailing on the back of your Velcro stripper pants.”
“That was you! You bedazzled everything.”
Her laughter roars through the speaker of my phone, but not a single denial is voiced since everything I said is true. By the end of my ‘stripper’ career, the only thing that wasn’t bedazzled was my cock.
It takes several long seconds for Jess’s laughter to die down, and when it does, it has me begging for the chance to make her laugh again. I’d just rather do it without the inquisitive eyes of an eight-year-old on me.
After spinning away from Jake, I say down the line, “Jessie, I’ve got an errand to run, but can I give you a call later?”
Her delay is understandable. I’m an ass, and I’ve never once denied that to her, but that doesn’t mean I can’t admit when I’ve fucked up. The bridge I forced between us would have burned out months ago, but I’d still like the chance to explain the reason I moved back to Jersey.