Total pages in book: 197
Estimated words: 199143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 996(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 199143 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 996(@200wpm)___ 797(@250wpm)___ 664(@300wpm)
John let out a breath, offering one of the duffles to Andino. “I’ll help—deal?”
He eyed the bag. “You wrap - I decorate the gifts.”
John’s grin deepened.
Andino shook his head. “Don’t even start. I can’t help that I get particular about it.”
“You mean, that you need actual ribbon for bows and gift tags that look like Martha Stewart crafted them?”
He did his best not to glare.
Really made an effort.
And failed.
John simply chuffed like he didn’t expect anything less from his cousin. “Yeah, I wouldn’t start anything at all about that. Why would I?”
Andino snatched the bag out of his cousin’s hand. “You wrap, I decorate.”
“Deal.”
John | Andino | Michel
The Cousins
Andino POV
“Black leather was not the fucking way to go,” Andino grumbled, shifting on the passenger seat again to try and get somewhat comfortable. It really wasn’t working. “Seriously, do you have the fucking seat warmers on, or what?”
John laughed, and passed his cousin a look. He got a kick out of the way Andino was trying not to put too much weight onto the seat. “No, the seat warmers aren’t on. What, did you want me to pick white leather so you can spill shit all over it, or ... ?”
Andino scowled. “I don’t—”
“Man, you dropped a burger all over my fucking seats. And then made a bigger mess when you tried to clean it up. Oh, and the fucking slushie. Do you remember that shit?”
“I was drunk!”
“Yeah, not a good reason to spill electric blue slushie all over my fucking car, Andi.”
Andino had a good mind to tell his cousin to go fuck himself, but it would only be because he was trying to save some of his pride. It wasn’t like John was lying, or anything. Andino was not a food and car kind of person. Some people could eat in cars and not make a mess, and some people—him, mainly—could not.
It was that simple.
“Do you know how much money I had to pay to get the car detailed after that happened?” John asked, still ranting away.
“No.”
“A thousand dollars!”
“Bet Uncle Lucian appreciated that.”
John’s gaze narrowed. “He thought I did it, actually.”
Andino snorted. “That’s hilarious.”
“Shut up, Andi.”
Finally, the air conditioner in the new Mercedes really kicked in, and Andino found the leather was slightly easier to stand it. John must have left his car sitting right out in the damn sun because the seats had been hotter than the Devil’s ass when he first got in the fucking car.
“So, we going to the city, or elsewhere today?” John asked.
Andino shrugged, and scrolled through his phone. A new text popped up which made him quirk a brow. “Wherever. Hey, Michel wants to meet up.”
John drummed his fingers to the steering wheel, and nodded. “Yeah, bet he wants a pickup for the next week.”
“He’s just getting out of classes.”
Michel, their cousin, was in his final year of school. Andino went to a completely different school than Michel—his parents put him in a private establishment, while Andino’s parents had him placed in a public school. Not that Andino minded. He didn’t give a fuck where he went to school as long as he graduated so he didn’t have to keep going. John, already graduated, didn’t even bother with college before he just went straight into the family business.
Andino figured ... that’s probably exactly what he was going to do, too. No point in beating around the bush. Andino had zero interest in college, and the mafia was in his blood.
Family business it was.
Right after he got fucking high school out of the way.
“Yeah, we’ll grab Michel. See if he’s got something interesting to do today,” John said absently while he merged onto the highway. “Let him know we’ll be there in twenty.”
“It’s a forty minute drive to his school from here.”
John hit the gas harder. “Actually, let’s see if we can make it in fifteen, then.”
Jesus Christ.
Well, at least John was always up for some kind of fun.
*
Michel POV
Michel whistled at the sight of the sleek, black two-door Mercedes that pulled up along the entrance to the Academy. Standing from the steps, he shrugged the messenger bag over his shoulder, and neared the vehicle as Andino stepped out the passenger side. Moving the front seat forward a bit so Michel could get into the back, Andino gestured at his cousin.
“Your ride awaits,” Andino joked.
“When did you get this?” Michel asked, sliding into the backseat.
In the front, John passed a look into the rearview mirror. “Finally got in today. Delivered it this morning.”
“Where’s the old—”
“Dad’s gonna sell it.”
Michel nodded. “Nice.”
It took no time at all for the three cousins to be out on the road, and Michel was glad to have the Academy behind him. Not that he hated school, he didn’t. An Ace student for every class, he found school incredibly easy. And boring.