Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Emily comes over for most of the afternoon and we mostly talk about baby stuff. She’s in the middle of a minor existential crisis, terrified of being a mother and all that good stuff, but really I think she just needs some reassurance, because she’s one of the strongest people I’ve ever met. The girl supported herself and her father working two low-wage jobs before marrying Simon. That’s a huge deal.
“I’ve been waiting for you to tell me about Brody, but you keep letting me blabber on,” she says toward the end of her visit. “Stefania keeps hinting that there’s something going on with you two.”
I shrug a little. I don’t mind that Emily and Stefania are talking about my relationship—they’re probably my closest friends in the world—but I’m not sure what to tell them. “Can I just say it’s complicated?”
“That’s a massive cop-out.”
“But it’s also sort of true.” I tell her about going to the bars the night before, how it started out as work, but it ended up very much as play. I leave out the sex details, but she clearly gets the idea.
“This is how it starts,” Emily says, looking all smug. “You guys have some angsty, emotional realization that actually you’re perfect together, and then you start having sweaty, incredible sex—”
“I’m going to stop you right there,” I say, holding up my hands. “I’m pretty sure you’re speaking from experience, and I really don’t want to think about my brother and sweaty sex right now.”
“I’m just saying, you look happy. That’s a good thing, right?”
“It’s a good thing,” I confirm, but I hesitate before throwing my legs over her thighs and sitting back against the arm of the couch like I’m at a therapist’s office. “But Brody’s got this, like, pathological fear of showing emotion. I know he’s got feelings, it’s just that he suppresses them. He thinks letting himself feel will only distract him from running his family.”
Emily laughs quietly. “Sometimes I think Simon’s the same way. The man acts like the world will stop spinning if he slows down. And in some ways it’s true, the Famiglia does rely on him, but he’s got good people working for him.”
“Brody’s got like fifty thousand brothers and a couple of cool-ass sisters he can lean on for help, but he thinks it’s all on him. Some stupid daddy issues, I guess.”
“Give him time. He’ll come around.” Emily pats my knees. “You’re pretty great.”
“Please, he knows that already.” I give her a smug little smile and she laughs, but in the back of my head, I keep on wondering if she’s right. Brody’s been opening up little by little, and I know he’s into me, but I keep waiting for him to suddenly retreat into his shell again.
Emily heads back to her place and I head over to my mom’s to visit with her and Dad for a while. When I get back home, I find Brody upstairs in our room. He’s got a suitcase open on the bed and he’s folding more clothes into a drawer.
“Are you doing what I think you’re doing?”
He looks up, frowning. “If you think I’m putting clothes away, then yes.”
“This is a big surprise.” I step into the room as he shakes his head and goes back to unpacking. “I mean, we agreed on, what, three days? But you’re still here.”
“I’m still here.”
“And you’re bringing more stuff.”
“I put suits in the closet too. Plus shoes.”
“Shoes?” I put a hand on my heart then pretend like I’m checking my pulse. “Did I die and go to heaven?”
“Baby, we both know it’d be hell if I’m there.”
“Not funny!” I take off my flat and throw it at him. He laughs, bats it out of the air, and comes at me. I squeal as he tries to grab me by the hips and wriggle away, running to the bed, leaping up, but he manages to catch my ankle. I’m laughing too hard to escape a second time as he drags me into his arms and buries me in exaggerated kisses, his hands feeling me up, as he does it.
“You’re not getting rid of me,” he purrs as he pins me down with his weight.
“Ugh, worst news ever,” I say, sighing as I stretch my hands above my head and absently knock his suitcase onto the floor.
“Did you just do that on purpose?” He leans back, studying me with a vicious smile.
“I might have.” I tilt my head, pouting. “What are you going to do about it?”
He grips my waistband and unbuttons my jeans. He tugs them off and turns me over, pushing me down onto my belly, and before I realize what’s about to happen, he’s already got my panties around my thighs and his big, broad palm spanks my ass.
“Oh my god!” I yelp as blood flushes my cheeks. Both my face and my ass. “You cannot just spank me. I’m a grown-ass woman.”