Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 129998 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129998 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
I measure up all my ingredients from memory while ignoring the way Colton stares at me dumbfounded. “How do you know how to do this?”
“Make pancakes?” I question, dumping in all the ingredients and grabbing my whisk.
“Cook in general,” he says. “Did your mom teach you?”
I press my lips together and look down at the mixing bowl, making sure to get all the lumps. “She taught me a little but truth be told, she was always out working and I was left at home to figure it out. It wasn't until Nic started hanging around that I really started to learn. He's a bit of a whiz in the kitchen,” I say, feeling the heaviness of all the amazing memories come rushing in. “He didn’t like the idea of me cooking the same three meals over and over again. He taught me that just because you have to eat cheap, doesn't mean you have to eat like shit. Best lesson I ever learned. All the boys kinda taught me a little something when it comes to cooking, except Kai. He can’t cook to save his life which is why he’s fucking around all the time, hoping the girl will feed him before he fucks her off in the morning. That kid has eaten way too much take out for his own good. If the grilled chicken place wasn’t down the road from him, he’d probably starve.”
Colton drops his elbow onto the counter and he brushes my hair back over my shoulder. “You really miss them, don’t you?”
My whole world comes crashing down as the emotions begin to overwhelm me and I find myself unable to meet his eyes, afraid that my truth will hurt him in some sort of way.
Seeing the mess his question put me in, he steps into me and pulls me deep into his arms. “I hate that you’re hurting, Jade,” he whispers, resting his chin above my head. “I’m not going to lie to you and say that I love that they’re such a big part of your life, because I don’t. I don’t like them, but I’ll tolerate them for you. I hate the way Nic put his hands on you and left you bruised and I hate the way you’re always so hurt every time you come back from seeing them, but if making things right with them and learning to forgive and forget is going to bring back your smile, then go to them and talk it out.”
“I …” A heavy breath escapes me and I force myself to hold back my tears. “I’m not ready to forgive them and I sure as hell will never forget.”
“You don’t have to forgive them, Ocean, not if they haven’t done anything to earn it, but you can talk to them and make your pain go away. I hate seeing you so down about this.”
I step out of his arms and meet his eyes. “You really think so?”
“Don’t get me wrong, I’d prefer to spend my day buried deep inside of you, but you need to do this. You need those dickheads in your life. Just go and talk. You don’t have to come to any conclusions, but let them know where you stand, and hell, maybe give Sebastian a fucking hug or something … anything to get that fucker to stop calling every phone in my fucking house.”
I raise a brow. “He’s been calling the house?”
Colton doesn’t reply but his unimpressed scoff is answer enough. “Here,” he says, stepping across the kitchen and pressing his hand against the small screen that’s been built into the marble countertop. His hand is scanned and a second later, a small drawer pops out, displaying an impressive array of car keys. He picks up a small key and places it in my hand. “Take the Audi and go see them. Make it right or don’t, it doesn’t matter. Just go and see them and heal whatever part of your heart it is that’s been aching for them.”
I raise my chin and meet his eyes, curling my hand around the keys. “Are you sure?”
He dips his head and gently brushes his lips over mine. “I'm sure, but if I don’t hear from you throughout the day, I’m coming down there and bringing your stubborn ass home.”
Excitement begins filling me as well as fear. Am I really going to go back home and meet with my boys? The idea of seeing them again fills my heart with warmth, but the constant reminder of how we left things kills me.
I’m nowhere near ready to forgive them for all the secrets and lies, but to start mending the bridge between us … I don’t know. The thought has a spark of electricity burning within me.
When I saw them last, I told them I never wanted to see them again, but at the same time, they’re also my boys. They’re my family. How could I turn my back on something like that?