Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 102549 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102549 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
I’ve never cared enough for anyone to worry about this stuff. Meeting the parents. Prescott and I aren’t even officially together, but that thought scares me. Probably because I want to be with Prescott—and Kit—so I can’t fuck it up when I meet his parents because what if they don’t like me?
My palms are sweaty at the thought.
Not as sweaty as they become when instead of Prescott’s parents filling the doorway, two men built like tanks do.
They enter without knocking, pause, and one looks at me while the other sees Kit passed out in the chair.
The smaller of the two nods at me. “I’m Shanahan.”
“Brady.”
The other one doesn’t introduce himself. He sits on Kit’s lap and then laughs when Kit startles awake.
“Fuck you, Terri.”
“Thanks for the offer, but I’ll leave that up to Pres. You know, when his leg isn’t smashed to pieces.”
Kit shoves Terri off him and then stands. Just when I think they’re about to hug, Kit gets him in a headlock.
“Are they always like this?” I ask Shanahan.
“I wouldn’t know. I’m the guy who replaced him on their team.”
Ah.
Kit finally pulls away from his friend. “What happened out there?”
“Come on, man, you know that’s classified.”
“You’re such an asshole.”
“You are.”
I cut in. “And here I was thinking Prescott was the most immature SEAL.”
Terri turns his smile on me. “Who’s the little guy?”
I scoff because I am not little, no matter how much I love it when Prescott and Kit make me feel like I am.
“That’s Brady. Duh,” Shanahan says.
I decide I like him.
“Whoa, like Brady Brady? The Brady?” Terri asks.
“Y-you’ve heard of me?” I glance at Kit.
“This one”—Terri points at Prescott—“was rambling on and off something about Kit and Brady while his brain was bleeding.”
“His brain was bleeding?” I ask and look at Kit. “Did we know that?”
“Eh, it was just a little one,” Terri says. “No swelling. He’s on blood thinners and meds to keep his blood pressure down, so he avoided surgery. All good things.”
“Yeah, a brain bleed doesn’t sound like a good thing. Is he going to be okay?” I ask.
“You can’t get rid of me that easily,” comes a weary croak.
Kit and I rush to Prescott on either side of his bed.
“You’re awake again,” I say.
“Again?” His brow scrunches.
“It’s the concussion,” Shanahan says behind us. “His short-term memory is shit.”
“How are you feeling?” I ask.
“Like I was in a helicopter crash. Need. Water.”
Kit’s quick to grab the plastic cup with a straw next to his bed and lift it to Prescott’s lips.
His hooded eyes turn to Kit and then back to me. “Wait, you’re both here? Together?”
“We haven’t left your side since your mom called,” Kit says. “Your parents will be here soon, by the way. I also heard from your sister. She couldn’t get a babysitter, so she’s bringing her rug rats with her.”
“They know? If the brain bleed didn’t kill me, Mom will.”
“It sounds like you’re going to have a slew of visitors coming your way,” Terri says. “We just came to check in on you.”
“What’s the plan?” Prescott asks. “Am I being transferred back to Coronado or what?”
“Most of us are going back,” Terri says. “But you, Levenson, and Moran have earned yourselves a cushy vacation here in Virginia while they get you back to the sarcastic loudmouth you usually are.”
I try not to let my excitement show, but Kit and Prescott in Virginia at the same time for an undetermined amount of time? Sure, I live in New York, but I have summer break off law school. I’m sure I could ask Uncle Damon for some personal time. The three of us could be together for longer than a week.
“I want to go home,” Prescott says softly.
My hopes are dashed.
“They have a state-of-the-art rehab facility in Virginia,” Terri says. “I wish I’d been here when I had that nerve damage from shrapnel in my shoulder. The nurses are hot too. I had this male nurse who was so small I could snap him like a twig, and he kept bossing me around.”
I suck in my lips to stop the laugh flying out of me. If only he knew Prescott—and I—were definitely into that sort of thing.
“I’m so glad I have the hot women nurses and not the sexy twink with a control kink,” Prescott deadpans.
I can’t hold on to it anymore. A laugh leaves me, and then suddenly, I’m the focus of everyone’s attention.
I don’t like it.
Being who I am, who my dads are, my brother, I’m never the source of attention. I’m always in the background, the way I like it. When I’m with Kit and Prescott, I love being their center of attention. But only theirs.
Thankfully, or not so thankfully, the doorway fills with more people. Screaming toddlers and a woman wearing expensive clothes but looking disheveled with a baby in her arms. Her kids look like maybe twins and a newborn. Yikes.