Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 131271 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 656(@200wpm)___ 525(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131271 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 656(@200wpm)___ 525(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
“Technically, she’s got us by the balls.” Shawn shakes his head, feigning disappointment, but the dude is flushed from laughing so much, and even Jacob has this happy vibe that he hasn’t worn in a long time. Maybe even ever.
“The shiny eggplant balls?”
“They’re not shiny anymore. I learned my lesson.”
“Now it’s just his forehead that’s shiny,” Jacob quips.
“Do you guys ever stop?” Riley asks, shaking her head though she’s smiling.
“No,” Shawn says easily.
Jacob rolls his eyes, but there’s warmth in his expression and contentment. For all the jibes and the back and forth, his posture is relaxed, and the groove that perpetually scores the space between his brows is as smooth as Shawn’s eggplant balls.
With more beer, we finish our food and talk about everything from our favorite sandwiches to the places we want to travel to, from hockey to our high school years, and everything in between. Eventually, Jacob stands and begins clearing plates. Riley moves to assist him, but he shakes his head. “Sit. Relax. You’re a guest.”
“I want to help,” she insists, taking a stack of plates from him.
“Let her,” I say, giving Jacob a pointed look.
Jacob grumbles but doesn’t argue.
I sink back into the couch, my eyes drifting to Shawn as he balances a spoon on his nose, as an unguarded laugh from Riley drifts from the next room. Her laughter carries through the space, warm and infectious, and for the first time, it hits me: everything I didn’t realize I’d been searching for has quietly fallen into place.
***
By the time we’re all back in the lounge, the energy has shifted. The teasing banter has softened into something quieter, more intimate. Jacob sits in one corner of the couch with Riley curled up next to him, her fingers threading through his hair. His expression is calm and peaceful. It’s a startling contrast to the Jacob I’ve come to know lately, the one who wears his frustration like armor.
Shawn’s earlier comment about Jacob sounding like our father lingers in my mind. There’s truth in it. The impatience and the sharpness are all there. And yet, I know it doesn’t come from the same place. It’s not bitterness, but weight. A weight I suspect he’s chosen to bear, thinking he needs to shoulder responsibility for all of us.
The idea makes me ache. He’s the oldest, but by mere minutes. That doesn’t mean he has to carry the weight of the world for me or Shawn, though I know he would if it came to it.
Shawn, true to form, has claimed the floor, stretched out on a pillow like he’s king of the universe. The TV hums softly in the background, playing a comedy special that earns the occasional chuckle.
When Riley’s free hand slips into mine, a wave of quiet contentment washes over me. There’s a rightness in her touch, a grounding calm.
“This is nice,” she murmurs, her voice warm and soft, like the evening itself.
“We didn’t scare you off with all those embarrassing stories?” I ask, squeezing her hand gently.
“She’s still here, dude,” Shawn chimes in with a lazy grin.
“Still here,” Riley echoes, a smile tugging at her lips.
Jacob tips his head back just enough to glance at her, his voice low and teasing. “She must like us.” His eyes flutter shut again, and Riley lets out a quiet laugh, shaking her head.
“You ready for bed?” I ask, my voice quiet.
She stifles a yawn. “I think we all are.”
“Jacob’s put us to sleep with all the pasta and bread,” I say.
“Nah.” He kisses Riley’s forehead. “I’ve provided the fuel for what comes next.”
Her eyes sparkle as her gaze drifts between us and anticipation surges.
24
SHAWN
Watching Riley climb the stairs fills me with a kind of contentment I’ve never felt before. It’s not the fleeting relief I used to feel watching girls leave after sex, but something deeper. She’s staying. For the first time, she’s going to sleep in our bed and wake up in our space. The thought settles over me like a warm, satisfying weight.
“We have a spare toothbrush for you,” I call after her, leaning casually against the banister. “And some extra underwear.”
She stops mid-step, glancing down at me with a sweet, surprised smile. “You bought me underwear?”
“I don’t know if you’re aware,” I say with mock seriousness, “but there are these magical places called lingerie stores. And these other things called credit cards.”
Her smile turns sly. “And there are these people called smartasses.”
I grin, unfazed. “Do you want the panties or not?”
She laughs a soft, warm sound that makes me want to keep her here forever. “I would love the panties. At least, I think I want the panties. They’re not… like, some weird rubber latex gimp shit, are they?”
I clutch my chest dramatically. “How did you guess?”
She bites her lip to keep from laughing harder. “Fine. Bring on the panties, Romeo. Let’s see what kind of kinky horror you’re into!”