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)
“Whenever you're ready, Mad,” Dad says, stepping out of his way.
Maddox squats, rolling his neck back and forth. Then he puts his toe at the line and launches at full speed. His sneakers slide across the asphalt. His arms pump at his sides.
“Go, Maddox!” Ashley cheers.
We all watch the sign as it starts to blink numbers. It ends with a flashing twenty-two.
“Not bad,” I say, trading an impressed nod with Moss.
Pippa draws another name. “It’s you, Chicken Daddy.”
Everyone laughs, the sound filling the evening air.
Jess points at Pippa. “You’ll pay for that one later.”
“Can’t wait,” she says, winking at him.
He lines up on the mark and takes off. His face turns cherry red as he bounds down the highway.
“I can’t believe we haven’t seen any cars yet,” Mom says.
An eighteen flashes as Jess passes the sign.
Maddox flicks his shirt. “First place, right here.”
“Moss, you’re next,” Pippa says.
As Moss goes to the line, Jess makes his way back to the family.
“What happened?” I ask him. “Too many late nights with the chicks?”
Maddox snorts, turning his back to Jess so he doesn’t see his amusement.
Pippa kisses his cheek. “You did great.”
“I would’ve had you,” Jess says, planting his hands on his knees and heaving a breath. “I got a bad start.”
“That’s what they all say,” Maddox says.
Moss gets in position. Paige has Sara adjust the camera so she can see better. I stand behind my girl and hold her waist.
It’s not lost on me that Sara has fit into our family so perfectly. When my brothers brought home Brooke and Ashley, it was the smoothest process ever. It’s as if they were both supposed to be in our family the whole time. Like there were roles for both of them, and we were just waiting for them to come fill them.
Sara listens to something Brooke says and laughs.
And it’s like that with Sara too.
My stomach tightens as I ponder what this means.
“Run, Moss,” Brooke shouts as he hustles down the straightaway.
I pull my head from my thoughts and watch the sign. Nineteen.
His hands hit his knees, and he heaves.
“What was my time?” Jess asks, looking at Mom.
“Eighteen.”
“He didn’t just beat me,” Jess says, mouth gaping. “I call bullshit.”
Dad holds a hand in the air. “We all agreed this was unbiased. He beat you.”
Jess throws his arms up and walks away from the group.
“Foxx or Banksy,” Dad says, watching Pippa pull the last name from the hat.
She grins. “Let’s see it, Banks.”
I shouldn’t be this nervous. I don’t even know why I’m nervous. Probably because I talked a lot of shit and now I have to put my money where my mouth is.
I’d like my mouth to be on Sara’s pussy.
“You can do it, Sparkles,” Sara says.
I look at her and grin. She winks.
No, no. Focus. I look down the stretch of road and shake my arms. That’s not far. Let’s show these boys how it’s done.
I press off the ground and go. My eyes focused ahead of me, back straight, my head neutral to my spine. My acceleration is quicker than I expected, and I hit my top speed just as the sign begins to blink. Twenty-three, twenty-four as I blow past it.
God, I’m not in the shape I used to be in.
I suck in air, fighting the urge to bend over.
Take that, boys.
My face is hot as I turn back to my family. “What was that? Did I see a two-four on there?” I heave a breath. “That’s what it looked like to me.”
Sara’s grins ear to ear as I reach her. Her arms go over my shoulders, and she kisses my cheek.
“That’s so freaking sexy,” she whispers in my ear.
“Just wait until we get home.”
“I can hear you!” Paige shouts. “And I can’t see anything but the sky.”
Sara giggles. “Sorry.” She removes herself from me and points the phone toward the road.
Foxx is already lined up.
The road is slightly higher than where we’re standing. That must be the reason Foxx looks so … large. Maybe I just never see him in basketball shorts.
“Don’t blow out a knee,” I yell, more to distract him than anything. But, in typical Foxx style, he doesn’t blink. He just focuses on the road ahead like I don’t even exist.
Maybe I don’t exist in his world. Huh.
He starts out with an explosion, ripping through the air like some kind of fucking athlete that he’s not. Or I didn't think he was.
My heart pounds as he flies closer to the sign.
Please be twenty-three. Please be twenty-three.
Everyone’s attention is tuned into the sign, waiting for the numbers to flash. Twenty-four.
My elation from moments before slips.
“No,” I say, walking toward Dad. “He didn’t just tie me.”
Dad’s amused. “Twenty-four and twenty-four are the same number. That means it’s a tie.”
Foxx walks our way, staring at me, looking like he just got through with a yoga workout or something. Not at all winded.