Total pages in book: 198
Estimated words: 186242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 931(@200wpm)___ 745(@250wpm)___ 621(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 186242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 931(@200wpm)___ 745(@250wpm)___ 621(@300wpm)
He didn’t need to actually tell me, but I could tell he was thinking about last night too. Hopefully thinking about how we should have a repeat ASAP. I’d settle for draping myself over his bare chest again like we’d done afterward too.
Am’s aunt had been just as nice as I remembered from Thanksgiving, and I’d had such a nice time crashing their party, talking a ton to Rhodes, a little to Am, who mostly hung out with his uncle Johnny and his dad, and helping out in the kitchen as much as possible. I’d ducked outside in the cold for a little while to call my aunt and uncle and wish them a Merry Christmas, and talked to my cousins for a bit too.
We’d left right after four, because Rhodes had to work tomorrow. He’d asked if it was okay if we let Amos drive, and I’d been all about it—at least until he started to get stingy with the stops thirty minutes in. The roads had been plowed that morning, and the temperature had warmed to a pretty perfect forty-five degrees, keeping the roads free of ice, so it hadn’t felt like a safety hazard to let him drive. Rhodes had only complained a little when I’d begged him to stop twice on the way up.
I was just about panting though when I spotted the sign for the gas station in the distance, having kept quiet because it was taking all of my effort not to pee myself, period.
“Finally!” I moaned when he turned right and headed for the pump.
“We’re going to get gas,” Rhodes said as his son parked.
“Okay, I’ll pay you back. I gotta go,” I hissed as I threw open the door, having taken my seat belt off while he’d been turning, and flew out of there.
I heard them both laugh, but I had better things to do.
Luckily, I’d been in so many gas stations by this point in my life that I had an inner magnet for where the bathrooms were and spotted them instantly, pretty much waddling toward the sign because every step got that much harder. It wasn’t a huge travel center, but the station was a surprising size with a full-size bathroom with stalls. I peed about two minutes straight, or at least half my weight in fluid, and got out of there as fast as I could. The employee behind the counter looked away from where she’d been focused outside and nodded at me. I nodded back.
And it was then that I noticed what she’d been looking at.
There was a huge class A bus that had pulled into the offset section where I figured 18-wheelers in the area stopped at.
The door was open, and people were filing out of it, yawning and rubbing at their faces. It was too many people to not be a tour bus, I recognized.
Rhodes or Am had moved the car one pump over, and they were both hanging outside of it, Am staring at the pump and Rhodes leaning against the car, gaze on me.
I waved at him.
He shot me one of those low-key, devastating smiles that made me want to hug him.
And that was when it went to shit.
“Ora?” the unfamiliar voice called out.
Looking to my left, maybe ten feet away from the two men I loved and was in love with, I recognized two other faces. Why wouldn’t I though? I’d known them for ten years. I thought they’d been my friends. And based on the pale expressions that had taken over their features, they were just as surprised to see me too. I was so caught off guard I froze and blinked, making sure I wasn’t imagining Simone and Arthur.
“It is you! Ora!” That was Simone who called out, tugging at Arthur’s jacket.
Arthur didn’t look all that excited.
I couldn’t blame him. I was sure he knew he was on my permanent shit list. And even though I thought I was a pretty decent person, I felt my facial features drop into a blank expression.
And I guess I decided to ignore them because I managed another two steps that brought me closer to Rhodes and Am before Simone’s hand wrapped around my inner arm just as she said, “Ora, please.”
I didn’t snatch my arm out, but I did glance at her fingers before meeting her dark brown eyes and saying, calmly, perfectly fucking calm, “Hi, Simone. Hi, Arthur. Nice to know you’re alive. Bye.”
She didn’t let go, and when I met her gaze, there was something in hers that looked desperate. I didn’t even bother glancing at Arthur because I’d known him a year longer than Simone—I’d been in his wedding party for his first marriage—and I wasn’t about to let them ruin what had been a wonderful Christmas.
“I know you’re mad,” Simone said quickly, keeping her hand on me. “I’m sorry, Ora. We’re both sorry, aren’t we, Art?”