Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 163209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 816(@200wpm)___ 653(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 816(@200wpm)___ 653(@250wpm)___ 544(@300wpm)
“Can I stay?” Jeremy asked. “I won’t say anything else if you don’t want me to.”
Jean’s voice was rough as gravel. “You are my partner. I will not tell you to leave.”
Jeremy wondered how Jean could still put stock in a system that had let him down so horrifically, but it would be cruel to mention Riko now and Jeremy had seen Jean skirt Zane’s name enough to know the man was an equally touchy topic. One day he would ask, maybe. There were bigger problems right now, none of which had easy solutions. The one Jeremy fell back on wasn’t the one he meant to start with, but with Joshua’s text eating at his thoughts it was what slipped out.
“I didn’t like it either, the first time she said it to me,” he admitted. Jean didn’t respond, but Jeremy felt his head turn and knew he was listening. “Felt like I’d been waiting forever, so it wasn’t at all fair to come from her first. Isn’t that ridiculous?”
“Most things about you are,” Jean pointed out.
Jeremy laughed. “Yeah, you’re probably right. But Jean? I’m glad you’re here, too. Our lives are better with you in them.”
“Mine would be better if you would stop talking.”
He sounded tired, not annoyed, so Jeremy chose not to take it personally. He closed his eyes and let himself relax, testing the easy way Jean took his weight without protest. He wasn’t sure what time it was or how long he had until he needed to start home, but Jeremy was in no rush to sort it out. This was enough, for now: the heat of Jean’s back against his and the silence that cradled them both as Jean tended his inscrutable thoughts.
CHAPTER THREE
Jeremy
For one delirious moment Jeremy thought he’d make it out of the room first. It was always a toss-up, since the longstanding seating arrangement at the table put the Wilshire-Knox kids in age order. Joshua’s chair was basically decoration, so Annalise was the only real obstacle. Most days she was in a hurry to vacate his side and the drama his presence inevitably started, but today she was distracted answering some texts. Jeremy was able to get up before her, and he made it all the way to the dining room door before his mother stopped him with a brusque,
“Jeremy.”
It was as effective as an anchor, snapping him to a halt two steps from freedom.
Jeremy turned to face her, but Mathilda was already distracted helping Warren with his cufflinks. Warren was off for drinks with some of his colleagues tonight. Jeremy wished they’d gone for dinner instead and saved him some of tonight’s stress, but luck was running a bit scarce these days.
Annalise impatiently motioned Jeremy out of her way as she caught up with him. Warren was right behind her and gave no sign he noticed his stepson off to the side. Bryson remained seated at the table. Mathilda turned a cool gaze toward him as the others left.
“Did you need something else?”
“I’m finishing my tea,” Bryson said, but made no move to sip it.
Lingering for the sake of eavesdropping, and they both knew it, but Jeremy couldn’t call him out on it and Mathilda wouldn’t waste her time doing it for him. She accepted Bryson’s lie in silence and turned a shrewd look on Jeremy.
“Your LSAT guides are still wrapped,” she said.
Sealed, yes, and tucked away in the bottom drawer of his desk. That she’d been digging around in his room was not as surprising as he wished it was. The years spent rebuilding her trust were all for nothing; one call from the police and she would always assume the worst from him.
He hesitated too long; her tone was stern when she said, “Explain yourself.”
“It’s too early to worry,” Jeremy reassured her. “I still have time.”
“The earlier you apply, the better your chances,” Mathilda said. “You should have taken the test this spring; barring that, you should have signed up for a summer slot. Admissions will open soon, and you are nowhere near ready. This isn’t the sort of test you can just roll out of bed for. You do understand that, don’t you?”
Bryson tipped his cup toward Jeremy. “I told you, didn’t I? He’s planning on failing so he can embarrass us again.”
Mathilda pursed her lips in disapproval. “Jeremy.”
“I’m not,” Jeremy argued. “I won’t. The summer just got away from me because I’ve been helping Jean adjust to Los Angeles.” It took a moment too long for recognition to set in, no matter that Jean’s assault was what had forced this meeting. Jeremy couldn’t keep the impatience out of his, “Jean Moreau, the transfer student who was attacked on campus yesterday.”
“The newest Trojan faggot,” Bryson said. “Have you slept with this one yet?”
Jeremy rounded on him to demand, “Why? Is Warren shopping for another Beemer?”