Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 97758 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97758 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
“Did you sculpt me your dick? You shouldn’t have,” I deadpan.
He shakes his head at me. “That’d be too hard to recreate perfection. I got you the next best thing.”
“My dick?”
“No, asshole. Just look.”
I approach the table and smirk at his wrapping. It earns me the middle finger, to which I laugh. My laughter dies as I stare at the sculpture in awe.
Daisuke and Chibi.
They stand like their pose on my poster, but instead of looking forward, they’re looking at each other, intense need carved into the features of their faces. Two enemies who’ve grown to be much more than words could ever express. The details are incredible. I’m fascinated by the entire thing.
“It’s not finished yet,” he murmurs, mistaking my silence for not liking my gift. “I still have to add the weapons and paint it and—”
Tearing my gaze from the sculpture, I pounce on him, hushing him with a kiss. “Thank you. It’s so fucking cool, Wonderland.”
We both startle at the sound of Dad hollering for us. I take his hands in mine, bring them to my lips to kiss each one, then release him. It gets more difficult each day to let go of him to hide what we’re becoming from others.
Downstairs, Dad is pulling out the barbeque from bags while Quinn fetches plates and silverware. I grab a couple Cokes for Alis and me, making sure to give him a wink that turns his cheeks pink, before sitting down. Quinn pulls out a cake from a box and sets it in the middle of the table. Chocolate with Oreo pieces sprinkled all over.
“I thought sugar was forbidden in this house,” I can’t help but joke.
Quinn gives me a soft smile. “Things change.”
Guilt surges up inside of me, infecting the happy moment. I’m having the best time with Alis and our dads, yet it feels like a betrayal to my mother and sister.
As we eat, I fall into somber silence. This time, it’s Alis who worries over me. Both Quinn and Dad wear matching pinched expressions. I feel like a dick, especially since they went through all this effort on my birthday, but I can’t shake away the melancholy. After our meal and cake, Dad hands me a gift sack.
“From Quinn and me.” He sits down at the table again, taking Quinn’s hand. “Hope you like it.”
I open the package to find a set of Mubōna Ikari manga books with the new covers signed by both the artist and writer. The pre-orders for them opened up on July 15th, and they sold out within minutes. I’m stunned that they were able to obtain a set.
“How?” I ask, confusion making my voice waver. I’d tried to buy them, even set my alarm so I wouldn’t miss out, but I was pushed off the server almost immediately since so many people were trying to get on.
“Quinn made it happen,” Dad says, grinning at me.
“No,” Quinn disagrees. “I’m not taking the credit for this.”
“Fine, it took an army.” Dad shrugs. “I offered my Gators season pass tickets to anyone at the office who could get their hands on it. Quinn offered an extra week of vacation for anyone at his company who could get them. His assistant was the one who actually got through.”
“It was hell without her that week,” Quinn grumbles, though smiling happily.
My gut twists painfully. July 15th was right after the proposal on the boat. Not even two weeks after I punched my dad in the fucking face.
I’m such a prick sometimes.
“Thank you,” I croak out. “I don’t deserve this.”
Dad scoffs, shaking his head vehemently. “Son, you deserve more than I could ever give you in this lifetime.”
The flood of emotions threatening to drown me is overwhelming. I don’t want to face the fact that Dad loves me just as much as ever because I’m still angry at what he’s done to our family. Yet, I’m also grateful for him being the parent I need in this moment. I’m mentally scrambling at how to proceed when Alis speaks up, swiftly changing the conversation.
“I think someone is stalking me.”
I lift my gaze to him, expecting a playful grin. Instead, worry pinches his brows together. He’s not talking about me. He’s talking about the texts.
“W-What?” Quinn barks out, his voice higher than ever before. “Who?”
“I thought it was a wrong number at first, but after I blocked them, they messaged from a different number. It’s like they know me.” He bows his head, his shoulders hunching. “What if that car today wasn’t an accident?”
My blood runs icy cold. I’d read the texts he received, and they could be mistaken for being threatening. But who the fuck would want to threaten Alis?
I’m clueless, but the brief, knowing, horrified look Dad and Quinn exchange tells me maybe I’m missing something important.
“What is it?” I demand, a fierce need to protect Alis making the hairs on my arm stand on end as electric fury buzzes across my flesh.