Total pages in book: 29
Estimated words: 26992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
The door to her bedroom is slightly ajar. I crane my neck to see if I can catch a glimpse of the interior.
“Here you are,” she announces, holding out a glass of milk. She smiles brightly. “I added a little extra because you can’t eat mac and cheese without a glass of milk, right?”
If I didn’t love her before, I do now. I wrap my fingers around the glass and trap her hand. “Have you had lunch yet? I can’t offer you much, but I’ve heard this is the cheesiest mac and cheese around.”
She chuckles. “I did have lunch with my sister, but thanks for offering.”
It was a long shot. After all, who eats mac and cheese except kids under the age of ten and bachelors who can’t cook? “Then let me take you out to dinner. I’ll offer you some real food and not school cafeteria stuff. You can give me the insider scoop on this dump—damn place.”
Dove looks down at our hands that are still joined around the glass and pulls gently but firmly away. “I have a lot of stuff to do, but I do appreciate the offer. Maybe some other time.”
It’s a rejection, and if I were a lesser man, maybe that would sting, but since I know Dove is destined to be mine, I view it as a minor bump in the road. “I’ll see you later, then.” It’s a promise.
Two
Dove
I stand over my kitchen sink eating my breakfast muffin. I know this will be the only food I have until I get back home tonight. I’m supposed to have a lunch break, but in the two months I’ve worked for Miller, Thomas, Dunn & Graham that has never happened. I’m sure today will be no different.
I was only supposed to cover the mailroom, but I am always getting pulled into other tasks. I never thought I’d say this, but I miss working at the diner. But the diner couldn’t give me medical benefits or any of the other small perks that I felt I might need.
My phone vibrates on the counter as I shove the rest of the muffin into my mouth. My half-sister’s name pops up on the screen.
Avery: Did you see the hottie next door again?
I knew I shouldn't have mentioned him to her. She is never going to let this go. Yet I had to tell someone about him.
Me: Nope.
I text back, trying to keep it short so she doesn't keep going. When it comes to my dating life, Avery can be like a dog with a bone. She drives me nuts, but I love her to pieces. She’s the only real family I have left. Not counting the father that we share. I use the word father loosely.
Her relationship with our father is night and day compared to mine. For one, he actually claims her as his child. I’m just the bastard child he had when he cheated on Avery’s mom. So he likes to pretend that I don’t exist, and that it never happened. I’m used to it at this point.
Avery didn't give a shit about any of it when she finally found out about me three years ago. She pushed herself right into my life and has made it clear she’s not going anywhere. She said she always wanted a sister, and even though the circumstances of how it came to be weren’t great, we needed to make the best of it.
Avery: I’m bringing dinner over tonight.
Me: I have plans.
Avery: Liar. I’ll be there at seven.
I groan. I’d push to meet at her place, but I know she’s trying to sneak a peek at the hottie next door. As much as I love my sister, I always feel awkward when she comes over to my place. She doesn’t turn her nose down at me, but our lives are so different.
She goes to an Ivy League college and has her own place right off campus. It’s shiny and new, along with everything inside of it. I don’t think she had ever been to the part of the city that I live in until I moved here. I could see the shock on her face the first time she came to visit.
When I hear the train speed by shaking the building, I know it’s time to go. I’ll need to be on the next one if I want to make it to work on time. I send Avery a quick text back telling her that she better be bringing my favorite dish from the little Italian place by her house or not to even bother to come. Then I put my phone in my bag, grab my keys, and head for the door.
When I open the door, I pause to see my new neighbor standing there. He has a gallon of milk in his hand. His short hair is a little messy, and he doesn't look like he’s shaved yet this morning. The thought of how it would feel against my skin hits me out of nowhere. I shake it off. Great, he went and got more handsome. I didn't know that was possible.