Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 83211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
I sit back in my seat. I don’t know.
I can’t figure this text thing out. My instincts were leaning toward Foxx, but he’s standing right in front of me with no phone. All of my brothers are. So who the fuck can it be?
Who knows all my brothers and would go out of their way to send us random animal texts? Paige? Maybe, but it doesn’t seem like something she’d do. She has her hands full with Nate and Ryder. Mom? Dad? I think about that. Dad’s too busy with work and the couch debacle. Mom has enough to do besides looking up animal factoids. That’s not her style, anyway.
I look up. Jess is motioning for us to get moving.
“Is it a coincidence?” I ask, opening my door. “I don’t know. Do coincidences exist?”
Sara shrugs as she meets me at the front of Betsy. Together, we walk toward the pack. But not a Wolfpack, according to Jess.
“For fuck’s sake, Sparkles,” Moss says. “We were starting to think you chickened out.”
I look at Jess and smirk. “Hi, Chicken Daddy.”
“Banks, fuck off.”
Everyone laughs.
“Did anyone bring a medical kit?” Mom asks, looking around.
The group of us shrugs and voices our failure to think that far ahead.
“Just don’t fall down or anything,” Mom says. “And, for the love of God, don’t break anything.”
“Please,” I say. “We’re athletes. Did you forget who you are talking to?”
Dad snorts. “I hate to tell you all, but you haven’t been athletes in ten, fifteen years.”
“I take offense to that,” I say.
Moss groans. “Of course, you do.”
“Hey, maybe you guys aren’t athletes anymore, but I could out wrestle every single one of you right now and beat you with one hand tied behind my back. So until you can unseat the champ, I’m still an athlete,” I say.
“Can you guys just start?” Paige yells through the phone. “I have to get back to work, and I want to see this.”
Dad steps onto the asphalt of the lightly traveled road. “I’ve already walked off thirty yards. Start here and go.” He points at the sign. “And the big boy there will clock you without any interference. Fastest speed wins. Remember—this thing clocks traffic in miles per hour, so we’re going for the fastest speed, not the fastest time.”
I do a few walking lunges to warm up the hamstrings. “Why thirty yards? Is Foxx too old for fifty?”
“It is going to be an absolute pleasure beating you today, Banks.” Foxx shakes his head. “I do have other things to do. Can we begin?”
“Like looking for your keys?” I ask, cackling.
Foxx puts one hand on his hip, his focus lasered on me. “You and I are going to have a discussion about that later.”
“Why?”
He holds my gaze for a moment too long—long enough to cause a surge of anxiety to travel up my spine. What does he want to talk to me about that for?
“I brought your key back to you from the grocery,” I say. “Didn’t Mom give it to you?”
He slides his attention to Dad. “Let’s get going.”
I spin around toward Mom.
“I gave it to him,” she says, shrugging.
What the fuck? But there’s no time to contemplate it. It’s go time.
The sun is still hot, soaking into my skin. Sweat dots my forehead as I pull off my shirt. I toss it to my girl, appreciating her appreciation of me.
“Like I said, you’ll start here,” Dad says, toeing a chalk line on the edge of the pavement. “Who goes first?”
“Oldest to youngest?” Maddox asks. “Youngest to oldest? Alphabetical?”
Mom comes forward with a hat. “I put names in here to avoid a war. Someone can draw the order.” She looks around. “Pippa? You want to do the honors?”
“Sure.”
“Are you betting anything on this?” Paige asks from my phone screen. “Or are we just doing this for bragging rights?”
“Ego,” Dad says.
“Got it,” Paige says.
I stand beside Sara as Pippa puts her hand into the hat.
“Let’s go, Chicken Mama,” I say, snaking my arm around Sara’s waist. She lays her head on my arm.
Pippa points my way. “Don’t think you’re going to get me upset with that nickname. I love those little chickies.”
My attention snaps to Jess. “Oh, isn’t that a surprise.”
Before he can reply, Pippa reads off the first name.
“Maddox,” she says. “You’re first.”
Ashley claps, grabbing his shoulders and giving them a shake. “You can do this. Run fast!”
Maddox stands at the line. “I got this, Ash. No worries.”
“I hope no one breaks a leg,” Paige says, sounding a lot like our mother.
I stand in the middle of my family and look around. We might be here for a pretty ridiculous reason—who races each other at our age? Foxx probably has brittle bones by now—but everyone is having fun.
Especially me when I win.
I glance at Foxx. I should have Mom make sure he’s taking calcium supplements.