Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 93307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93307 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Instead, it’s my cousin Thatch.
Thatch: I have three possible investors lined up for you already because I’m THAT good. We can all meet Wednesday. Lunchtime. My office. Don’t dress like a douche.
I’m quick to respond.
Me: I appreciate your hustle, T, and in this case, am even willing to stroke your massive ego. But I’m in Destin right now and won’t be back in New York until Saturday night. Can we meet next Monday after school hours?
Thatch: Is Destin potentially giving your foundation a shitload of money? Because if it’s not, get your ass on an earlier flight.
The thing is, he’s right. I’ve been trying to get this foundation off the ground for years, and suddenly I’m acting like vacation is more important?
I glance out the windows, looking for Katy among the white sand of the beach, but she’s nowhere to be found.
Me: You’re right. I’ll look at the airlines and let you know what I come up with. I just have to let my, well, roommate know about the change when she gets back from wherever she is this morning, but I doubt she’ll be disappointed. She pretty much hates me.
Thatch: Ah, I see. You’re mingling with all the college co-eds, you dirty dog. Hate fluffing your way through the spring breakers.
I roll my eyes on a laugh and send him a rebuttal. The last fucking thing I need in my life is to hang out with college girls. I’m about ten years too old for that. And, trust me, I got my fill of that when I was a wild college kid at NYU.
Me: I’m not mingling with college chicks. I’m staying in a condo in a mostly residential part of Destin with one of the other teachers from my school.
I decide to make myself a cup of coffee while I’m searching for flights. Surely a single cup of Joe isn’t breaking the rules if I keep it black and avoid the use of Katy’s sugar and creamer.
Thatch: You know, when Cassie was pregnant with Ace, she went through a bit of an early midlife crisis and decided we needed to go on spring break. We ended up in Panama City (not during actual spring break), and it was a fucking shitshow. She ordered strippers to our hotel room and forced me to pound tequila like I was twenty-one again.
If there’s one thing about Thatch’s wife Cassie, it’s that she’s probably the craziest woman I’ve ever met. She’s outspoken and hilarious, and she has my eldest cousin by the balls. He would walk through fire for that woman. No question about it.
Me: Your pregnant wife ordered strippers to your hotel room?
Thatch: Magic Mark and Emma Bone.
I nearly choke on my coffee, but before I can even come up with a response to that, another text chimes through.
Thatch: Dude, it was terrifying. I didn’t want any part of it, and Cass started to get jealous when Emma Bone was all up in my personal space and twerking her ass in my face. Thankfully, we stopped the erotic show before it got out of hand and just spent the night ordering takeout with the strippers and watching a movie. Honestly, I still have nightmares about that Panama trip.
Me: Holy shit, T. No wonder Ace is such a fucking handful.
Thatch: And he’s our good kid. As you know, Gunnar is out of his mind.
He’s not lying. Gunnar is quite spirited. His commentary on all things and willingness to dish the dirt on his parents never ceases to keep me laughing.
I lean my hip against the counter, but when I spot a box from The Donut Hole on the kitchen island, I can’t stop myself from opening it and looking inside. Nestled inside the white cardboard are six donuts from the best damn donut shop in the country.
My mouth practically waters when I spot their famous maple donut topped with bacon. It might sound disgusting to put bacon on a donut, but it’s quite literally one of the best things you’ll ever taste.
My phone pings again, and I look to the screen while the smell of the donuts from the open box envelops me.
Thatch: What teacher is there with you? I’m struggling to understand why you’re there with someone who hates you anyway.
Me: It’s a long story. It’s Katy Dayton.
My stomach growls, but I pull my own hand away as though it’s not attached to my body. Katy’s rules were explicitly clear.
But my stomach yells again as if to say, Just do it. There’re plenty of donuts here, and after you eat it, you can go get more to replace it before you head back to New York early.
Before I can stop myself, I’m reaching down to lift the donut out of the box and taking a bite. The instant the sweet-and-salty combination hits my mouth, I swear my taste buds fucking break-dance on my tongue.