Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 118459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 474(@250wpm)___ 395(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 474(@250wpm)___ 395(@300wpm)
“You get that close to her and I’ll plant you into the asphalt.”
He backs away chuckling. “I gotta go. See ya at work tomorrow.”
“Later, man.”
I pull onto the street, the rush hour long gone. The moon is bright, and it seems like I’m following it as I take turn after turn towards my house. The sky is dark except for the big silver ball. It looks lonely up there, hanging by itself.
The driveway is vacant when I park the truck and, once I cut the engine, I just sit, staring at the front of my house. There are no lights on. There will be no smells from dinner, no giggles from a little girl watching some crazy cartoon with singing animals. I won’t have to step over any toys or get a suspicious eye from a beautiful, dark-headed woman wondering why I’m late and what I’m up to.
Those are all the things I told myself I’d never enjoy. Those are all the ways in which I lied to myself.
THIRTY-THREE
CREW
The kitchen is a complete disaster. Dishes and utensils are everywhere, syrup sticking most of it together. I reach across my ma’s blue bowl, pancake batter dripping down the side and onto the counter, and grab a banana. I need a quick bite to eat before I head to the gym.
Julia and Ever are in the living room getting situated. They got home yesterday afternoon, and I was nervous as hell, only seeing them a couple of times while they were at the hospital. I didn’t know what to expect. I’d talked to Jules on the phone every day multiple times, but I’d only been able to see them three times over the week they were there. Between work and training, by the time I’d call Jules, she’d say they were sleeping. I hate it. I want to be there for them. I missed them when they were there, worried like fucking crazy. But I have to do what has to be done . . . which is also why I haven’t told Julia what I’m up to. I know it’ll add to her worries and that’s the last thing I want. I’ll have to tell her at some point, but the right time hasn’t popped up.
“Hey,” Jules says, coming around the corner. Her hair is pulled back, and there’s a bit of shine back in her eyes. Everleigh tolerated the first round of treatment better than they expected and it’s brought a some life back to Jules. Yesterday she made dinner. I offered to get takeout, but she wanted to eat “real food.” We ate and watched a movie, Jules and Ever both fell asleep on the sofa, and I carried them both to bed.
“Hey,” I say, smiling at her.
“Your pancakes were good.” She brushes past me and pours a glass of orange juice. “I’ll get this cleaned up.”
I love the way she looks in my kitchen. Probably too much. “I’ll get it when I get back. You relax.”
“When you get back?” She looks alarmed. “Where are you going? I thought you’d be here with . . .” She looks down, embarrassment staining her cheeks.
I reach out and touch the side of her face. As soon as my hand makes contact with her skin, her head whips up. I start to take my hand away, worried I’ve overstepped my bounds when she surprises the fuck out of me. As I pull it back, she wraps her hand around my wrist and puts it back against her cheek. Her eyes are wide as she leans into my touch. Ever so carefully, I place my other hand against the other side of her face. I feel her breath hitch, her heartbeat pulsing.
“Hey,” I whisper. I force a swallow, and her eyes go to my throat. I want, need to kiss her, to wrap her up and never let her go. But I don’t. “I have to work today.”
“But it’s Sunday.”
“I know,” I say, rubbing her skin with the pads of my thumbs. “And I’m sorry. But I have to do it.”
Her face falls and I pull my hands away. She tears her eyes away from mine. “I know. I’m sorry. I know you’re doing this for Ever and I—”
“No,” I say softly. “I’m doing this for us. For Ever. For you.” I grin. “And for me because I can’t live without either one of you.”
Her eyes go wide and a breath catches in her throat. I know saying it out loud, cut and fucking dry, is probably a bit much, but I can’t help it.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have said that,” I say.
“I love that you did.”
Things are starting to get complicated and, for both our sakes, I need to keep them simple.
“I’ll be back later.” I grab a bottle of water off the counter and start to leave.