Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Ava plonked down next to me once we were through the hatch and into the open-plan tree house. And by “open-plan” I meant it was just one room about as you’d expect for a tree house. I was just grateful it had screens on the windows and was big enough to fit a full-sized futon.
“Jesus, Ava. Your childhood tree house was nicer than my childhood real house.” I tossed my duffle down and blew out a breath. I’d spent last night on the sofa in their den, but today more family had come in from out of town and Mrs. Ivey had sweetly but firmly declared Ava’s “city friend” would be moving out to the “guest suite.” I’d gotten excited for a minute until I’d remembered we weren’t in Beverly Hills and Ava’s family lived on a dairy farm. “If I see one spider, I’m catching the first flight out.”
Ava blew her bangs off her forehead. “Good luck getting a ride out of town during the Lickin’. Traffic comes in, Mal. It doesn’t go out.”
I shot her a look and tried not to shudder. This town had great potential for becoming the setting for a horror movie.
After kicking off my shoes, I set my backpack on the small wooden table next to the futon and began unpacking my stash.
“Oh my God, gimme those,” Ava hissed, pointing to the pouch of Dove chocolate pieces I pulled out of the bag.
I clutched it to my chest. “Hell no. I only brought enough for a carefully distributed four pieces a day. I can’t get through this week of insanity without my Dove bites.”
Her eyes narrowed, and my skin prickled. Was this how the horror movie began?
“Fine. You can have one,” I said with a sniff. “But then you have to procure your own coping mechanisms, m’kay?” I reached into the bag and pulled out a single foil-wrapped square before passing it over.
She continued to stare at me until I placed a second square in her hand. She didn’t stop the freaky stare-down until she finally had five squares.
“Any more than that and the baby will get diabetes,” I warned, hugging the remaining chocolates to my chest. “And everyone will hate you for being a chocolate stealer.”
She popped a piece into her mouth and shoved the crumpled-up foil in my pocket. “He didn’t look very good, did he?”
If we hadn’t been such close friends, I might not have known who she was talking about. But I’d spent years hearing about Brooks Johnson in excruciating detail.
“Uh… I feel like there’s no good way to answer that.” He’d looked damned good to me. Until I’d realized who he was, of course. Then he’d looked like the wretched warted monster that he so obviously was.
I just hadn’t realized wretched warted monsters could be so damned sexy. My bad.
“His hair was all…”
“Golden?” I suggested without thinking. Since I was busy putting my clothes away amongst the binoculars and other secret agent gadgets in the little wooden chest opposite the futon, I wasn’t paying much attention to her babbling.
“Dull and lifeless. He needs a conditioning treatment, honestly. And I don’t say that easily. Also… his body was like…”
“Cut? Ripped? Chiseled?” I tried not to drool since there wasn’t a bathroom in the “guest suite” for me to use to wash my face.
“Kind of pudgy.” She said the last word in a whisper as if she’d been talking about a neighbor’s chlamydia.
I snapped my head up to glare at her. “Listen, babe. I love you. You know that. But I will not condone lying in this…” I looked around at the cobwebby space. “House.”
She rolled her eyes and lay back on the cushion with a huff. I sent up a silent prayer of thanks that a big cloud of dust didn’t come out with the impact. Lord only knew how long that futon had been out here. I’d convinced Ava to steal three sets of sheets for it to create a thick barrier between me and whatever mites had made a sweet home in the thing over the years, but it still gave me the heebie-jeebies.
I glanced at her. “Why do you even care? I thought we were over him.”
“We were. We are.” She didn’t sound convinced. “It’s just…”
I lifted a brow at her, and she threw up her hands. “It’s just… being in the Thicket—with him—is bringing it all back. We had our whole future ahead of us, you know? It was going to be perfect. He was the most popular boy at school, the football quarterback, the head of the honor society. I was voted most likely to win Miss Tennessee one day, and Brooks was gonna go to UT and then take over his daddy’s law business, and it was like… we had it all. When we were crowned Mr. and Ms. Licking Thicket that year…” She sighed. “I just thought it meant something.”