Total pages in book: 149
Estimated words: 146548 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 733(@200wpm)___ 586(@250wpm)___ 488(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 146548 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 733(@200wpm)___ 586(@250wpm)___ 488(@300wpm)
I nod. “I get it.”
“Not that I can blend that well on my own.” Hair falls into his eyes and he brushes it back. “Yesterday, there was a Tumblr debate about my shampoo preferences because Mom was photographed buying men’s shampoo at a salon. I was almost tempted to just shave my head.” He touches his chest. “But then I thought—do I really need more teenage and preteen girls now having an opinion about my new hairstyle?”
I’m surprised that he saw any gossip. He’s not supposed to search for that bullshit. “How’d you hear about that?”
“It was on my dash,” he rolls eyes. “I was just searching for some Shannara gifs.” He folds his headphones and zips them up into a case. “You wanna know what else is all over my dash? Gifs of you and your boyfriend.”
I haven’t actively searched for those, and I have to restrain myself from asking him to surface them. I spin on the desk chair. Facing him more. “I thought you don’t follow pop culture blogs.”
“I don’t,” Xander says. “You two are popping up in the The Fourth Degree fandom. There’s this theory that Mom’s going to push the studio to cast Farrow in the next movie as Turner Clarke.”
Christ. “They can’t be fucking serious,” I say. Turner Clarke is a tattooed comic book character who has the ability to manipulate mercury.
Xander shrugs. “They think Farrow is a wannabe actor just dating you for the connections.”
I almost groan, and I rub the back of my neck, knowing this shit is what frustrates Farrow. “Don’t mention this to him,” I tell Xander. It’s all baseless and over the top, but it won’t stop the theories. Some people can’t even for a second just believe he’s dating me because he loves me. The truth is too boring.
“I’m never dating anyone,” my little brother declares. “I have too many people up in my business as it is.”
The public’s frenzied reaction towards my relationship is scaring a lot of my siblings and cousins away from wanting one. And that’s not what I want.
“You could change your mind,” I say. “I did.”
He contemplates that and then just shakes his head. “No way.”
A knock sounds on the doorway, and we both turn to see my tattooed boyfriend. He leans a shoulder against the doorframe. His brows lift at me. “I just got a call from Quinn. One of Jane’s cats escaped into security’s townhouse and is missing. I have to go help him find the little bastard before she gets back home.” He glances from Xander to me. “I’ll be back to pick you up.”
I rise from the chair. “I can come with you.”
“You sure?” He frowns and looks between us, but then he realizes the same thing I did. His eyes dance all over the clean room. “Damn. Xander, your room looks great.” His gaze refocuses on me like I’m the cause.
I shake my head.
“It was all Summers,” I say.
“Nice job,” Farrow tells my little brother.
Xander tucks the headphone case under his bed. “It’s just a room.”
For anyone else, maybe. For Xander, it’s a big deal that he took the energy to do something as minimal as cleaning his room.
“Yeah, but now it doesn’t smell and look like that trash planet your brother won’t shut up about,” Farrow says as I head to the door to meet him. He gives me a sharp look like you didn’t talk to him.
He can tell.
“Saakar,” Xander explains. “It’s from Thor: Ragnarok.”
Farrow smiles casually. “That’s the one.” He nods to Xander. “See you later.”
“See ya,” Xander calls out, and I say goodbye to my brother before we make our way out of the house. It isn’t until the front door closes behind us and my boots hit pavement that Farrow broaches the topic.
“What happened?” he asks, his hand resting on the hood of my Audi.
I try to cross my arms, but it’s kind of fucking impossible with a sling. “He was happy,” I defend. “Really happy. I couldn’t break that.”
Farrow blinks hard.
“You don’t agree with me.” I can tell he doesn’t.
“He’s not my brother, wolf scout,” he replies. “You know him better than me. But the alternative is telling him during a low, and that feels like a worse move.”
There’s no obvious path, but I’m doing what feels right. “You tell me to go with my gut,” I remind him. “And my gut is saying not today.”
He nods strongly. “That I can buy,” he says. “But what if your brother is still happy tomorrow, next week, next month? How long?”
“I thought we were doing the whole no planning, relying on impulse thing?” I counter.
“If you’re only doing it to avoid shit, then you’re doing it wrong.”
I take a deep breath and swing my head back to the house. I can’t go back inside and tell him now, but I’ll keep an eye on my brother. And I come up with a new plan. “Not today,” I tell Farrow. “But sometime soon, I’m going to talk to him.”