Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 98736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 395(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
“Yesterday when Mom and I went shopping.” She keeps digging and pulls out a black ribbed tank top. “This too, with your black flip-flops. We’re going to be around the pool after all, oh, and your white bikini. Your tan is fire, and it will make you look even tanner.”
Reaching into my dresser, I pull out the white bikini she’s referring to. We both bought one during our spring break shopping trip with her mom. I got white, and Monroe got a bright pink. She’s right. The colors do make our tans pop.
“Are you sure I shouldn’t wear my black one?” I ask, pulling it from my dresser as well.
“Nope. White one. Virginal.” She winks.
“Um, I’m trying to get him to want me, not remind him how much younger than him I am.”
“Trust me on this. Men want what they can’t have.”
“Pretty sure he can have me.” I laugh.
“Work with me here, Em.” Monroe shakes her head. “It’s the illusion. You look hot and sexy and unobtainable. Yes, that’s the word I was looking for.”
“All right.” I nod. “What about you? What are you wearing?”
“I have those same shorts in black,” she says, pulling them out of her bag. “My same bikini in pink, and a white tank and white flip-flops.”
“And which one of the guys is your target for the night? Please don’t say my brother,” I’m quick to add.
“The only one off the table for me is Rome.” She winks.
“I don’t think they can handle you,” I tell her with a chuckle as I scoop my clothes up off the bed and head to the bathroom. It’s not that I don’t want to change in front of Monroe. We’ve done it countless times, but I need a minute. Just one or five, however long it takes me to change to get my emotions in check.
I can only hope that tonight pushes this thing I have for my brother’s best friend in one direction or the other. Either I give up because he’s pushing me away, or something happens between us, and I fight for what I want. My belly flops with nerves, but I’m ready. Regardless of the outcome, this back and forth, although fun, is hell on my nerves.
An hour later, Monroe and I are in the kitchen snacking on vegetables and dip while Forrest is on his fourth slice of pizza. “Did you eat lunch today?” I tease.
“I’m a growing boy, little sister.” He grins, taking another huge bite. “Don’t worry. There’s plenty.”
I look at the seven large pizza boxes. “Who all did you invite?” I ask him.
“Just the guys and the two of you.”
“And you thought we needed seven large pizzas?” Monroe asks, her amusement showing in her tone.
“One for each of us, one for the two of you to share, and an extra.” Forrest shrugs.
“When have you ever seen me or Monroe eat an entire large pizza on our own?” I ask him, eyebrows raised in challenge.
“You need to eat more. You’re going to wither away to nothing,” he tells me. His eyes flash to Monroe. “Both of you.” He scowls, as if the thought of us losing weight bothers him.
“I gained weight when I moved to college,” I tell him, shaking my head.
“Well, good.” He nods. “Good. I like to know you’re being taken care of.”
I soften at his words, and suddenly, I need a hug from my big brother. Sliding off the stool, I round the counter where he’s standing over the open pizza box that we now know is all his and wrap my arms around his waist.
“Love you,” I whisper.
“Love you too,” he says, pressing his lips to the top of my head.
“What’s going on?”
I don’t have to turn to look over my shoulder to see that Roman is the one who asked the question. Instead, I stand tall and release my hold on my brother, making my way back to the opposite side of the kitchen island, reclaiming my stool next to Monroe. I take my time opening a box of pizza and pulling out a slice for each of us, placing them on a napkin before I allow myself to look up.
Roman’s eyes are locked on me. “Everything all right?” he asks. His eyes flash to Forrest, who’s eating another slice of pizza, and then back to me.
“Of course,” I say brightly. He doesn’t ask me to elaborate, and I don’t plan to. The last thing I need is to remind him that my brother thinks he still has to take care of me.
“Are you hungry?” Monroe asks him, breaking our staring contest. I quickly pick up my slice of pizza and take a bite as she continues, “Apparently, Forrest bought one for each of us and one for those who aren’t stuffed from the first.”
“Did I hear pizza?” Lachlan asks. He comes walking into the kitchen holding two six-packs of Smirnoff Raspberry. He sets them on the corner of the island, pulls one out, twists the cap, and hands it to me before he repeats the process of handing one to Monroe.