Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 130673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 653(@200wpm)___ 523(@250wpm)___ 436(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130673 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 653(@200wpm)___ 523(@250wpm)___ 436(@300wpm)
“Row.” Cal put a hand on her husband’s hand gently.
“No, Dot. She needs to hear it. You’re of the same mind as me. She is wasting her life away. Rhy.” He cut his gaze to mine. “Talk some sense into your fake fiancée.”
“Sorry, pal. I jumped on that feminism bandwagon when they started offering free condoms in college.” I sprawled out in my chair, soothingly toying with Dylan’s hair. “I’m letting her call the shots on her own future. Radical, I know.”
Row dug his big, rough finger pads into his eyelids, massaging them. “Traitor.”
I ignored him. “You know, I’m starting to warm up to the theory that women’s brains aren’t actually smaller than ours. I’m still not fully sold on giving them voting rights, but, like, some of them have profound shit to say.”
Kieran snorted. Row was fuming, his ear tips red, neck flushed, eyes luminous with wrath.
Kieran excused himself. “Sorry, this toxicity shit is bad for my chakras, and I need to take a call from my agent.” He gestured to the lit screen of his phone, disappearing behind the aquarium wall.
Coward. No wonder Dylan never gave him a chance when he pursued her. He half-assed his entire life. Anything that wasn’t soccer got the narcissistic jerk treatment and was promptly neglected.
“I’m staying right here,” Tate informed no one in particular. “Wouldn’t miss a public meltdown for the world.”
“Quit.” Row fixed his gaze back on his sister. “I don’t want you near Tucker. I don’t want you in a slimy bar. And I don’t want you—”
“I don’t care what you want!” Dylan shot to her feet, slamming her palms against the table. “Get it into your thick skull—you’re not my dad. Even if you were, I wouldn’t listen to you. I am my own person. Your concern, your love, your devotion, is suffocating. Because it’s always your way or the highway.” She visibly gulped, pupils dancing in their sockets. “The road to hell is paved with good intentions, and you’re living proof of that. Seriously, thank you for always having my back. Thank you for being protective of me. But I can handle Tucker.” She stormed away from the table, toward the restrooms.
Silence fell over us all.
“That went well.” Tate was the first to shrug off the past few minutes, tossing a shrimp into his mouth.
Cal shifted uncomfortably in her seat. I gave Row a scathing look.
“What?” Row barked my way. “I said what everyone at this table thinks. My sister is a fucking genius. Why can’t she—”
“Because she wants to look back and appreciate the journey, not just the fucking destination,” I roared. I was on my feet now, even though I couldn’t recall my brain giving my legs the order. “Take it from someone who spent the majority of his twenties as your sidekick—not everyone wants to live in your shadow, even if that shadow offers sweet perks. You should be proud of her for wanting to do this on her own. You’re right. She is brilliant. But not only because she’s book smart or some shit. Because she is fiercely independent.”
“Rhyland is right.” Cal bit down on her lower lip. “You’ve gotten so used to protecting Dylan since the time your father was alive, somewhere along the way, you forgot it was time to let go.”
Row said nothing, staring me down with murder in his eyes. “You remember it’s all fake, right?” he asked me. “If not, I can always remind you, and I’m not going to be so nice about it.”
Shaking my head, I left the table and ambled to the restroom to look for Dylan.
Taking a turn behind the huge aquarium wall, I entered the dark corridor leading to the restrooms. I skidded to a halt when I came face-to-face with a silhouette of Dylan and Kieran embracing each other, Dylan’s lean frame draped against the wall, him covering her.
My blood roiled in my veins, my body a live wire of high-octane anger.
“Get your hands off her before I break both your legs like chopsticks.” The blade of fury in my voice cut through the air between them, making Kieran stumble backward and break the hug.
“Jesus, Rhyland, not you too.” Dylan’s face was saturated with disappointment as she shook her head at me.
I turned to Kieran, struggling to keep my temper in check. “She’s not going to fuck you, buddy. Move along.”
To this, he responded with a chuckle. “Ah. I guess I am destined to be a prop in the jealous-douchebag kit. First Row, now you. I’m starting to see a pattern.”
There was a hot minute when Row thought Kieran was after Cal the year they got together. He hadn’t appreciated the competition, and Kieran sported a slightly crooked nose as a reminder of that episode.
“Leave us,” I ordered, steely.
“The hell I will!” Dylan threw her hands up. “I’m going to stand here and give you a piece of my min—”