Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 117601 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 588(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 392(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117601 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 588(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 392(@300wpm)
They both cackle. I feel my cheeks warming up. Why am I blushing? They were having sex on my couch not even a minute ago. Okay, fine, our couch. But I think everyone can agree that once a couch doesn’t belong exclusively to a couple, it is not okay to consecrate it with bodily fluids.
“It was actually great.” And it was. Even if there’s a small part of me that’s sad to let go of my emotional crutches.
“That’s what I like to hear,” Colt says. I bet. He’s been asking Nora to move in with him for two years now. I know I’m in the way. He can’t move here—it’s a dumpster, and he is an aerospace engineer. He legitimately designs aircraft. He has a nice condo downtown, with a claw-foot bath and heated flooring, just ready for Nora to move into.
“Brings you a step closer to your goal, huh?” I grin.
“I’m rooting for Mr. Perfect,” Colt admits, laughing. “If he were a stock, I’d invest in the dude.”
I roll my eyes, kicking my boots off on my way to my room. Colt can be a little forward sometimes, but he means well, and it’s just our banter. When push comes to shove, he’s a great guy who’s always happy to help.
This time, I don’t have to worry if Loki is here. He is sitting on top of the dining table, staring at the wall.
“Your girlfriend is welcome to move out anytime she wants,” I inform him.
“She wants to make sure you’re settled first,” Colt says.
“Sorry my life is not to your satisfaction. I’ll get out of your hair soon enough.”
“Soon enough has already passed!” Colt hollers back at me, buttoning his jeans. “You’re deep in overdue territory, missy.”
Nora swats his chest, laughing. “Shh. You animal.”
“I know you are, but what am I?”
“Your little cheetah.” She giggles.
I’m going to vomit all over my feet, aren’t I? They’re leaving me no choice in the matter.
Ambling down the hallway toward my room, I hear them kissing and moaning again in the living room. I close the door, fall into the sea of fabric of my sheets, and close my eyes.
Expecting to see Mom on the other side of my eyelids.
Maybe Renn, maybe Dad, maybe Joe.
But looking back at me is my new obsession, marble eyes and dripping masculinity.
Dom.
The next morning, Renn calls. It’s eight a.m. eastern time, which makes it five a.m. on the West Coast. Renn is used to waking up at butt-crack o’clock to catch waves. What he is not used to is calling me, so I’m guessing Dad strong-armed him into this call.
“Hey,” I answer on the first ring. I’m so happy to see his name on my screen that it actually takes an effort not to weep. “Did you get my package?”
“Uh . . .” The sound of a yawn and a female moan pierces through the air. She says, “Renn? Are you already up? Should I get my surfboard?”
He is losing himself in a girl. Dad’s been saying he’s been doing that a lot. I sometimes wonder if Renn always needs a woman by his side to tell him how loved he is because of me. Because of what I did to our family.
“Renn?” I ask when his “uh” is not supplemented with any other words.
“Sorry. Yeah, got your package. That was some rad-ass shit. Thanks, sis.”
He always calls me sis. Even when things are bad. I love him so much for it. For his ability to act civil with people he loathes.
“Happy birthday.” I hope he can hear the smile in my voice, because it hurts my face. “How’ve you been, anyway?”
“Good. Yeah. Listen, so, we need to talk.”
There’s commotion in the background. The girl next to him got up too. “I’ll go get my car,” she says, and she sounds so much older than his twenty years, and what the hell is going on? I am suddenly freaked out that I have no idea what’s happening at home. Or whatever is left of it, anyway.
“What’s up?” I ask.
“Things are changing. You need to come here.”
I’m silent for a moment. Dad said the same thing, more or less, but he insisted that they were both healthy. Now I’m starting to think he lied.
“Are you guys okay?”
“Physically? Yeah. Top condition.”
“Money problems?” I ask. Unlikely. Dad is the most fiscally conservative man I know. He has a great job. Mom was the one who made uncalculated money moves, and he still loved her.
Renn snorts. “No.”
“Mentally . . . is there . . . I mean, are there . . . ?” This is a hard one to articulate.
“It’s nothing like that. Nothing apocalyptic.” He sounds short, annoyed.
“Then what’s going on?” I press.
“It’s not for the phone. Just come home. You’ve been gone for years. I know you’re pissed with yourself, and honestly? Dad and I are pissed with you too.” It hurts to hear, even though I already knew that. “But now there’s shit to deal with, so it’s time to drag ass back home before it’s too late.”