Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 77344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77344 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
“I stole his wallet,” I told him.
“Oh, that’s a fun meet-cute.”
“That was full of diamonds,” Miko piped in, making Chuck’s eyes go round.
“And then I got the wallet stolen from me, and got my face beat up in the process.”
“And strangled?” Chuck asked.
“Yeah, and strangled.”
“Does it make your throat hurt?”
“Yeah. It’s like drinking glass,” I told him honestly, but watched as Miko’s gaze slid to me, eyes concerned, likely thinking about what we’d just done a few hours ago in this very car.
“Hey, that place has hotdogs! Can we… oh,” Chuck said as Miko kept driving past.
“We just had bagels.”
“Yeah, but they were stingy with the cream cheese.”
“We will get something the next time we stop for fuel. What?” Miko asked, catching me smiling at his profile.
“Just a glimpse of what you’re like as a big brother. Or maybe what you’ll be like as a dad someday. If, you know, you want that.”
“I do,” he said, nodding. “Maybe not seven like my parents had, but definitely some kids in the future. You?”
“I’ve never given it a lot of thought,” I admitted.
“You were like a mom to Megs.”
“That’s different.”
“Is it? You did everything you could to take care of her, protect her, keep her innocent and happy.”
“Whose Megs?”
“Chuck, aren’t you due for a nap?” Miko asked, making me have to turn away so Chuck didn’t see me laughing.
“I’m not a baby,” Chuck insisted.
Lo and behold, though, twenty—suspiciously silent—minutes later, I turned back to find Chuck passed out, that silly stuffed pig between his head and the window.
“I’ve known toddlers who talk less,” Miko said, shaking his head as he turned off into a rest stop.
“And now you’re gonna live with him.Wait, is this the rest stop with the kitten?” I asked, sitting up straighter.
“Yep. Why don’t you go look for her while I get some food? Yo, chatterbox, you want to get some snacks?”
They came back a few minutes later, Miko seemingly a few hundred poorer thanks to Chuck’s need to get just about every damn snack and drink on the shelves, to find me leaning against the car, trying my damndest not to look as sad as I felt. Over a damn cat.
“Can’t find her?” Miko asked, coming up to me.
“I saw her go behind the dumpster back there,” I said, gesturing toward the building. “But she just hissed at me when I got close.”
I don’t know what I’d been expecting. That maybe she would remember me? Want to come to me? To, what? Come with me? I didn’t have time for a cat. I wasn’t even sure if Megs or Nicole were allergic.
But, yeah, I could admit to myself, at least, that some part of me did want to take her in off of the cold, hard streets. She, however, had other plans.
“Well, you can still toss food to her, right?” Miko said.
“Yeah,” I agreed, holding out a hand.
I tried to coax the kitten out with the food as Chuck prattled on to Miko about all the things he wanted to see in the city since, amazingly, he’d never been, even though he’d only lived a few hours away.
“Alright. Let’s get going,” I said, giving up when the cat wouldn’t even come out to eat. I climbed into the car and reached for the coffee Miko had gotten me. “I want to meet the guy who had you darkening my door the first time.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Max
“Hey, it’s the pretty thief!” Zeno said as I followed Miko into his apartment.
Zeno was… nothing like I’d been expecting. I guess some part of me had been expecting someone like Henry or Chuck. A little nerdy. Pale from staying inside and staring at screens.
But Zeno was actually kind of hot. Tall and tanned with dark hair, great bone structure, and dark eyes, he could have been in ads for men’s cologne.
Though he was inexplicably wearing nothing but a pair of board shorts with little flamingo floats all over them. Sure, it put his nicely toned body on display. But it was the middle of winter. And there wasn’t a pool anywhere nearby.
“Still didn’t get to that laundry, huh?” Miko asked with a smirk.
“You know, I kept meaning to,” Zeno said, gesturing over toward the overflowing laundry basket. He’d gotten as far as putting the container of detergent pods on top of it, but hadn’t gotten to the actual washing part. “But then… I dunno. Other shit, I guess. But I’ll be damned if I could tell you what that other shit is now,” he admitted with a head shake.
“Did a small hurricane blow through here in the past few days?” Miko asked, shaking his head at the mess of the apartment. Scattered takeaway containers littered the desk and kitchen counters, two trash bags sat behind the door but hadn’t made it down to the dumpster, and coffee cups and energy drink cans were everywhere. Including, somehow, on top of that laundry basket.