Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75457 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75457 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
I brush away a single fallen tear before I turn to face my brother.
There may be an entire decade separating us in age, but we’re as close as we’ve ever been. I look into his blue eyes. They’re the same shade as mine, and I’ve always found a lot of comfort in that.
I’m close to our brother, Keats, as well, but there’s a special bond between Berk and me that is unbreakable. He gets me in a way few people do.
“I was shocked when I heard that she died,” I confess in a low tone. “She was one of those people you expect to live forever.”
Berk reaches forward to squeeze my shoulders. “Death is never easy, Sinclair. You have to give yourself time to process the loss. Don’t try and rush that.”
He’s speaking from experience. Berk’s first wife died a few years ago. Since then, he’s found love again and is set to marry his fiancée, Astrid, in a few months. His daughter, Stevie, loves Astrid, and they are already a family in every sense, but I know that it was a journey for my brother to reach this point.
Losing Denia isn’t the same, but my sorrow is real.
“What does Jameson think about this arrangement?” Berk asks.
I shrug. “I don’t know. We haven’t spoken since we found out that we’d be roomies.”
He laughs. “I know something went down between you two a few years ago that tore your friendship apart. Maybe, being forced to live together is just what you need to mend it.”
“Or,” I pause to let out a soft laugh. “Or, it will be thirty days of non-stop arguments.”
“You can tell me what happened, Sin. Maybe if you talk through it with someone, you’ll see that it’s not as bad as you thought. Your friendship was solid for a long time. From where I’m standing, it’s hard to imagine anything tearing you two apart.”
I stare at his face. Part of me wants to tell him exactly what happened between Jameson and me, but the other part of me is scared that my brother will side with Jameson.
“It was a long time ago,” I say, even though it feels like yesterday when Jameson walked out of my life.
“You two will figure it out.” He nods as though he believes that’s inevitable. “Are you all set to move in?”
I glance around my bedroom.
Since I’m renting this two-bedroom apartment in Tribeca from my sister-in-law, Maren, I’m not giving it up entirely. I explained the situation to her and Keats last night and she suggested I keep the lease on her place in case I want to return after the thirty days are up.
That’s my plan.
With any luck, a month from today, Jameson and I will be listing his grandmother’s penthouse for sale and parting ways forever.
An hour later, I’m holding tightly to the handle of my suitcase as well as the leash attached to the collar of my little Yorkshire Terrier. With my free hand, I shove the key into the lock on the door of Denia’s penthouse.
The kind doorman in the lobby offered to help me, but I wanted to make the trek up in the elevator alone. I needed a minute to brace myself for what’s waiting for me on the other side of this door.
I’m hopeful that Jameson hasn’t moved in yet, but I know there’s a chance that he’s already here.
I close my eyes and say a silent prayer to Father Time to make the next thirty days of my life fly by in an instant.
When I glance down at Dudley, I smile at him. “Okay, pups. This is it.”
With a turn of the key, I grab the handle and push the door open.
What greets me steals my breath away.
Wearing nothing but faded, ripped jeans, Jameson is standing in the middle of the main living area facing me.
My gaze wanders over his chiseled abs and chest. I stop when I reach his face.
As much as I want to look away, I can’t because this isn’t how I remember him.
The last time I saw Jameson without a shirt, he was a lanky teenager.
“You’re staring, Sin,” he points out with a smirk.
“I’m not,” I argue, even though he’s right.
His muscled arms reach out to the sides. “Welcome home. Let the countdown begin.”
I step inside, shutting the door behind me. Before I realize what’s happening, Dudley has squirmed out of his collar and is headed straight for Jameson.
He scoops my dog up with one hand to cradle him next to his chest. Dudley plants a series of wet kisses on Jameson’s skin. “At least Duds doesn’t hate me.”
“He’s the only one in this room that doesn’t,” I whisper before I raise my voice. “I’m going to get settled in one of the guestrooms.”
“Alright.” He nods. “I’ll order dinner for us. You still love Calvetti’s spaghetti, right? With extra shaved parmesan on the side and two slices of garlic bread?”