Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 141165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 706(@200wpm)___ 565(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 141165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 706(@200wpm)___ 565(@250wpm)___ 471(@300wpm)
I said point-blank, “I’m sleeping with Jane.” Clear-cut. Nothing more, but I was on edge.
He just laughed and smacked my chest.
Told me he had a feeling.
Said he’d never tell a soul.
And that was that. My relationship with Banks is one of the purest forms of love, and I’m selfishly glad that I have him to confide in again. I’m already thinking about all the shit I want to talk about. Ask him for advice.
Lord fucking knows I needed his advice weeks ago.
“They’re on their way back,” Jane says aloud. Straightening up.
Farrow and Maximoff walk over to the table with four aluminum-wrapped hot dogs and nachos. Their voices audible as they approach.
“Taste this.” Farrow grins and raises the tray of nachos to Maximoff.
He glares. “No fucking way. You put jalapeños on it.”
His lips stretch in a smile. “In the corner, wolf scout.” He motions to the middle. “Pick a chip over here. Promise you won’t die.” They reach the table.
“You can’t promise that, man.” Maximoff pulls out two metal chairs. “I could choke on the chip and die.”
Farrow tilts his head. “I’d give you the Heimlich. I’m your doctor.” They both take their seats.
Maximoff blinks. “Sounds like you just want to touch me.”
“I wouldn’t need to be your doctor to touch you. I’m your fiancé ,” he says pointedly.
Maximoff grimaces, trying not to smile. “I’d rather Janie save me.” He swings his head over to his best friend. His brows suddenly furrow. “You okay? You look super pale.”
She’s lost some color in her cheeks. “I’m okay. Perfect, actually.”
Maximoff is more rigid. “You know…lately you’ve been acting seriously weird around me.”
She gulps her root beer.
“Like that.” He motions to Jane.
“Like what?” Her eyes grow.
He scoots forward and lowers his voice. “You know you can tell me anything. Right?” Both of them look pained.
And this just started. I can pull this pin for Jane—say what needs to be said in a few words, but I can’t slip into her dynamic with Maximoff. Neither can Farrow.
“I know I can,” Jane says wholeheartedly to him.
Farrow scrutinizes me until comms hit us. There’s chatter about crowds amassing outside the bingo hall. We both glance at the extra security posted at the entrance.
Should be fine.
His tattooed fingers peel aluminum, and I pick up my bottle of root beer.
Jane folds her hands on the table. “There is something we’ve been wanting to share with you and Farrow—it’s actually sort of funny…” Her eyes are huge; she didn’t mean to say that, and then she slides me an apologetic look.
I can’t believe I’m almost smiling. I take a swig of root beer. Keeping my arm around her.
“By we , you mean…” Maximoff’s eyes drift from me to her. “Thatcher and you—”
“Take your seats!” the caller announces, a bingo ball just rolled out. “We’re beginning with I-28! I-28!”
People suddenly shift. The sounds of asses hitting chairs, uncapping paint dabbers, and ripping bingo cards for the next game. And then the hall deadens in silence.
It’s common courtesy. No one speaks loudly while everyone’s listening to the caller.
Jane stretches more on the table to stay quiet. “Yes,” she whispers. “Thatcher and I.”
“G-50! G-50!”
None of us have started playing this round yet. Numbers light up on the board, and Maximoff puts a hand on the back of Farrow’s neck. Leaning in close so his lips brush his ear. Talking quietly.
All the while, Farrow is staring at me. I wouldn’t call it a glare.
Jane leans into my side, and I dip my head down so she can speak to me.
“I can’t do brief, I’ve realized.” Her breath is warm against my ear.
“I can,” I remind her.
She nods. “Please.”
“I’ll do it,” I confirm. I’d like to rip this off and push forward
Some people are shooting us looks to shut the fuck up.
Jane picks up a purple dabber and multitasks while we have to be silent for another minute. Catching up with the numbers.
She marks my sheets too. Trying to fill-in a postage stamp shape.
“I-20! I-20!”
I wait for Maximoff and Farrow to look back at us.
More numbers are being called, and excitement builds in the hall. People tensing, some smiling the closer they are to a bingo .
I hear double doors opening from commotion outside. My head turns, and I watch them slam shut. Late arrivals just came in.
No.
My eyes sear.
Jane must sense the strain in my muscles. Because she follows my narrowed gaze to Tony Ramella. He just walked in, his arm hooked around his grandma.
He’s off-duty. Xander must be safe at home. But Tony has to know we’re all here.
Seeing him almost instantly pisses me off, and I’m on-duty. I’m on fucking duty. I can’t let my anger or past grievances distract me. My blood simmers, and I roll up my red flannel sleeves.
“B-5! B-5!”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Tony shuffling slowly at Michelina’s pace. Headed to the long table to buy booklets.