Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80821 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 404(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80821 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 404(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
But Tripp has cooked for me. One night we all watched a movie together in their living room, and another time Meadow had me model a shirt she made for her dad as a surprise. Since we’re similar sizes, she figured that would work, but I think she just wanted to give me a hard time and make me model for her.
Each time I go to their place, Tripp and I go out to the shop together, under the guise of working, and I lose myself in the sensation of him edging me with his hand until he finally lets me come.
I don’t know why I like it so much, but I do. There’s the pleasure part, of course, but it’s also just… I like Tripp making it last. Like him being in control of my orgasm and knowing that ultimately, it’s still me who is the driving force, the one making the decisions. It’s confusing, but not something I feel comfortable talking to Talia about.
Every time we finish, Tripp holds me for a while—holds me and talks to me. He makes me laugh too, and we grumble about having to clean up before we slip into the shop bathroom to wash up, then head into the house, acting like nothing happened.
A few times Tripp came over to my place when we didn’t have work and Meadow was at school, and we’d work on the remodel of my spare room.
Today, the house feels empty and quiet. Tripp is meeting with a homeowner about a possible upcoming job. Then he’s taking Meadow to therapy before the two of them are having dinner with Tripp’s folks, brother, and the rest of his family.
It’s not as if I haven’t sat in this house a million times by myself over the years. It’s not as if I haven’t been home alone too many times to count since Tripp and I started spending time together. So the fact that it feels so…loud in its emptiness today is a sign that I’m getting much too used to spending time with Tripp and Meadow.
They’re not my family.
There’s no way this situation with Tripp will last.
More often than not, I’m miserable to be around. People have shown me that most of my life. I was shit to Morgan, and shit to East, and I always chose Dad over Mom.
“Shit,” I curse, trying to think of a way to reframe the negative self-talk like Talia taught me, which then makes me consider the fact that even when it comes to therapy, I try to be perfect. That can’t be a good thing.
Before I can think on it too much, there’s a knock at the door.
I frown, not sure who would be here because the weather is shit and Tripp is busy.
My lips turn up into a ridiculous smile at the thought that I have a Tripp, someone I might be expecting. Someone who comes over to see me.
I open the door to see Morgan and East standing on my porch, East with a scowl.
“What did I do?” I ask, and my brother’s lips turn upward. “Why are you smiling at me?”
“At your question,” East answers at the same time Morgan says, “East does that more often now, remember? That’s what happens when you’re in love.” He sings the last word the way someone does when they’re teasing, the way brothers probably often do with each other, which is something else that was robbed from us—joking, playfulness. Morgan and East are trying to get it back, or at least, Morgan is trying to bring it back to all three of us. He’d been playful with me too the one time we all went to dinner at East’s before he went into his program. “Are you going to invite us in?” Morgan asks.
“Don’t blame me. This is his fault.” East points to Morgan.
“It’s no one’s fault,” Morgan jokingly scolds. “This is a good thing.”
“But Rhett always gets grumpy when I show up out of the blue, so now I’m blaming you.” The two of them banter in this totally new way that makes me both jealous and maybe the happiest older brother in the world.
This is…what it’s supposed to be like. This is how we should have always been.
This is what I don’t know if I’ll be good at.
But I want it for them.
I want it for us.
“Come in before you let all the warm air out.” There’s a slight snippiness to my voice I wish I didn’t have. I don’t understand why it’s so hard when it comes to me and my brothers.
I step out of the way. Morgan comes in first, then East, and I can’t help remembering the last time each of them was here, separately. Have they ever been in my house together? The sad truth is, I don’t think they have.