Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 104151 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104151 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
“You need to go potty before we read a book,” I whispered.
Josh hurried into the bathroom, partially shutting the door, but not before Clifford squeezed in behind him.
That dog was his shadow. And I was grateful that my dad had stopped pestering me to find him a different home.
I listened for Anne and Fred before cracking open Kyle’s door. The lights were out, and he was on his back with his injured arm in the sling, hugged to his stomach. He didn’t speak or move, so I assumed he was asleep. When the toilet flushed, I closed the door.
Josh bolted toward his bedroom.
“Wash your—” I gave up, not caring if he washed his hands.
“This one,” Josh said, holding up a book.
I nodded toward his bed and tucked him in before sitting beside him. He hugged my waist and stared at each page. Halfway through, he fell asleep. I set the book on the nightstand and shut off the light. As I slid out of bed, Josh stirred and reached for me, so I squeezed into his single bed along with Clifford at our feet, hugged him to me, and fell asleep.
Early the next morning, I slipped out of Josh’s room and tiptoed down the stairs with Clifford. “Oh!” I startled, walking into the kitchen and letting Clifford out back to go potty. “Good morning.” I quickly combed my fingers through my hair. “I didn’t think anyone else was up.”
“Good morning. We weren’t sure you’d stay. Sleeping in a single bed with Josh couldn’t have been comfortable,” Anne said, sipping a cup of coffee. “Kyle made it clear last night that he doesn’t want us to stay or his parents to come help him. So …” She wrinkled her nose and shrugged. “We’re leaving after Josh gets up. Your parents promised to keep an eye on things. Kyle shouldn’t be driving, but since it’s his left arm that’s injured, he thinks he’ll be fine. That man is stubborn to a fault.”
I couldn’t say much. Everyone thought the same thing about me.
“We really can’t thank you enough for all you've done for Kyle and Josh. You’re very mature for your age,” Fred said, glancing up from the newspaper.
With a tight smile, I nodded. “Josh is irresistible. I adore him.” I twisted my lips. “Kyle is nice too. He taught me how to shoot a bow and arrow.”
And he built me a new hut.
Too bad I was his bad decision.
“He won’t be shooting that bow anytime soon,” Fred mumbled.
Anne eyed him with a frown. “Because he saved your friend.”
“Morning,” Kyle’s gravelly voice sounded behind me.
I swallowed before glancing over my shoulder. His jogging shorts hung low on his waist, and he wasn’t wearing a shirt. His gaze flitted between me and his brother.
“How are you feeling?” Anne asked.
Kyle winced while reaching for a glass.
“Let me help—” Anne started to say.
“I got it,” he mumbled, setting it in the sink and then turning on the faucet.
Anne and Fred exchanged tiny eye rolls, and I let Clifford inside.
“Might be time to take something for the pain,” Fred suggested.
“Makes me too drowsy,” Kyle said before drinking the entire glass of water.
“I think resting is a good idea,” Fred replied, narrowing his eyes.
“I have a child. Sleeping during the day isn’t a good idea. I don’t need to close my eyes to rest.”
“Well, as soon as Josh wakes, we’re taking off.” Anne put her coffee mug into the dishwasher.
I wanted to slowly back away and run out the front door. The tension was thick.
“Thanks for visiting. He’s enjoyed having you here,” Kyle said.
“I fear our visit is what caused your accident,” Fred said. “Had we not visited, I wouldn’t have suggested Peter and I go hunting with you.”
“Bones heal.” Kyle set his glass on the counter.
“Let’s finish packing, honey.” Fred pushed back in his chair. “Josh should be up soon.”
Anne followed him to the stairs.
I waited a few seconds before risking a glance in Kyle’s direction.
“Eve,” he said.
That was it. Just my name accompanied by an indistinguishable look.
Was he angry that I was there?
Waiting for me to explain myself?
Expecting an apology for being his poor decision?
“Mr. Collins,” I said, keeping a neutral expression.
His head slowly cocked to the side. “Are you done pouting?”
“You’re an asshole.”
“Maybe.”
“You think I act like a child, but let’s remember that I’m eighteen. You’re stubbornly refusing help from your family. You’re twenty-eight. You have a son. You should know better. So what’s your excuse?”
“I’m not stubbornly refusing anything. I simply don’t need their help.”
“Are you sure? Because last I heard, you’ve been making poor decisions.”
“I was referencing the past. You took it personally and ran off before I could explain.”
“Oh, that’s right. I’m not a poor decision. I’m the woman you’re testing—trying to decide if I’m worth the trouble that our relationship will cause.”