Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 111610 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 558(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111610 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 558(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Playing two-on-two with them as a team and me and Cole as the opponents, as if that was remotely fair with our age differences.
“I have a decent three-pointer, that’s about it,” I confess. “Mostly because if I could get the ball away from them outside, I was less likely to get fouled.”
“Sounds like you and your brothers were always competing?” she asks, shooting a three-pointer of her own as she tosses the wadded-up burger wrapper into the bag.
I huff sardonically. “Some of us. Others basically never gave a shit, like Cole and Kyle. I wish I knew how they did it.”
“Luna told me . . .” She pauses as if unsure she should share what her friend divulged. Hesitantly, she continues, “That you were kinda the odd man out for a while when you turned your back on the family business. Maybe Cole and Kyle learned from your example to not give a shit?”
It’s a sweet, kind angle, though it’s a bit of a twisted point of view.
“I don’t know. They always did their own thing, so I won’t take any credit or blame for their actions. Kyle was hell on wheels from when he was a toddler. My earliest memories of him are of Mom running after him, shouting ‘no’ on the daily.” I smile, able to picture it perfectly in my mind. “And Cole? He was family, but not at the same time. I think by the time Mom had Cole and Kayla, Dad was already checked out of hands-on parenting. Kayla got attention because she was a girl, but Cole? I think he felt like an afterthought.”
“Do you talk to them?”
“Kayla, for sure. She’s the most reasonable of all of us, knows how to use the family name when it suits her—to open doors or shut people down—but also has a solid head on her shoulders in her own right. She stays on the fringes, working with Dad, but at a healthy distance where he can’t control her. Hell, I don’t think he even knows what she does. But people assume she’s there for nepotistic reasons, underestimating her . . . until she ramrods right over them with a smile. Professionally speaking, of course.”
Samantha grins. “I think I’d like your sister.”
I nod. “I think she’d like you too.”
“Have they seen what you’ve created here?” Samantha asks me earnestly. “Do they understand how amazing you are?”
I don’t open up with people this way, certainly not someone who I know is skilled at digging deeper than most. But with Samantha, it feels natural and safe.
“Not really. Carter stopped by when I bought the place because Zack found it,” I tell her, and I’m surprised at the hurt in my voice. I didn’t even know that existed. “The rest of them don’t care . . . well, Kayla would, but . . .” I trail off, and together, we say . . .
“Rule six.”
Laughing, Samantha sings, “Breaking the law, breaking the law . . . unh, unh.” At my confused look, she smiles sadly. “It’s an old rock song my dad used to like. I heard him say it so many times—for things that weren’t even bad, just like ice cream Mom didn’t know about—that it comes out automatically.”
“You said you haven’t seen him in a long time, but do you talk to him?” I ask, a near quote of her earlier question about my siblings.
She’s quiet for a long time, lying back to stare at the sky above us. So long that I wonder if she’s forgotten the question, but I wait patiently for her to decide whether I’m worthy of her truth.
I’ve already figured out that she doesn’t have any easy roads to her heart. Her body, she gives thoughtfully, when it suits her. But her soul, absolutely not. She holds that in a death-grip, buried beneath her sass and smiles, and she watches analytically as she reveals tiny tidbits. Any flinch and she’ll bolt, writing me off with an easy flourish.
“I can’t,” she says quietly after a while. “Or won’t? I haven’t forgiven him, I know that much. Mom says he didn’t leave me and Olivia, he left her, but that’s not true. She’s trying to make us feel better and take the hurt on her already overly burdened shoulders. I’m angry that he cheated, that he broke the trust we all had in him and our family.” She makes a humming noise that says she’s thinking. “Ugh, but at the same time, he deserves to be happy too. He fell in love, accidentally he says, but who knows?”
She blinks several times, her lashes fluttering, and I don’t think she’s looking at the stars anymore but into her heart. “I’m not ready. Don’t know if I ever will be. And that’s okay because I’m allowed to take however long I need to sort through my feelings.”