Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 88248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88248 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
“You okay?” Keegan asks, his hands fisted at his sides. I can tell it’s taking everything in him not to lose his shit.
“I’m fine. I’ll text you when I get home.”
Keegan opens his mouth to argue but thankfully doesn’t. Instead, he gives me one curt nod and then shoots Brenton a threatening glare.
Brenton’s quiet as we walk to his car and during the short drive to my house. I’m expecting him to say something, anything, but he remains silent when he parks in his assigned spot and gets out of his car.
“Are you doing anything this weekend?” I ask to make conversation. He shakes his head. “Okay, well, I guess I’ll see you later…”
“Yeah, maybe,” he says, heading straight to his apartment and not giving me another glance.
I take the stairs up to my place, thinking about how everything is suddenly changing. I can’t even remember a weekend where Brenton hasn’t spent time at my place. I know he’s upset about Keegan suddenly appearing, but I just don’t understand why he’s letting it affect our friendship. Unless, Sierra was right…
When I get inside, Sierra is still awake, but barely. She glances over at me, and when she sees I’m frowning, she sits up.
“What’s wrong?”
I drop my backpack onto the chair, kick my sandals off, and sit next to her. “I think you were right.”
“I usually am.” She grins. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”
I roll my eyes. “I think Brenton might like me… as more than friends.”
Sierra laughs, and I glare. “Sorry.” She covers her mouth to stifle her laughter, but it still seeps through. “It’s just that… well… duh.”
“I really didn’t know,” I tell her. “And now he’s mad at me because of Keegan.”
“What happened with Keegan?” Her eyes widen in anticipation.
“Nothing. He’s just mad at him being around, I guess.” I fall backward on the couch and sigh. “I don’t know.”
“Do you like him?”
“Who?”
“Brenton?”
“As a friend.”
“Nothing more?” She pushes.
I turn my head to face her. “Nothing more.”
“Then you’re going to need to make that clear.”
“How the heck do I do that?” I whine. “I’ve never done anything to lead him on. I don’t get it.” I huff in annoyance. “Why must men be so complex?”
Sierra laughs. “I’m pretty sure they feel the same way about us… and you just tell him.”
“Right.” I scoff. “So, the next time I see him, I should just go up to him and say, ‘Even though you haven’t actually said you like me, I think you do, and you should know I don’t like you like that, so can we please stay friends?’ That sounds so stuck-up. Like I’m full of myself.”
“No, but you can bring up how he’s been acting and ask him why. And when he mentions it’s because he likes you, you can tell him you’re sorry, but you don’t feel the same.”
“Ugh!”
My phone dings, reminding me I never texted Keegan. When I pull it out, sure enough, there’s a text from him asking if I made it home okay.
Me: Sorry! Yes, I’m home and hanging out with my sister.
Keegan: Would it be too much to ask if I can come by tomorrow to see Zane? No classes on Fridays for me.
I pause for a moment. Friday has always been Zane’s and my day. Then again, so is Saturday and Sunday and every day and night I don’t have to be at school or studying. Things are changing, and I’m going to have to get used to sharing my son. This is what I wanted… and if I’m honest, I’m okay with that. Plus, spending time together with our son would be a good way to figure out if we still have the chemistry we had before. Who am I kidding? Every time the guy looks at or speaks to me, I can feel the chemistry sizzling between us.
Me: I don’t have class on Fridays either. Zane and I go to the park. Wanna join us?
Keegan: That sounds good. I’ll pick you guys up in the morning.
Me: It’s the park we walked to.
Keegan: I’ll still pick you up. 9:00?
Me: Perfect
“Keegan or Brenton?” Sierra asks.
“Maybe neither…” I smart.
“Yeah, okay.” She rolls her eyes. “You don’t talk to anybody else.”
“Am I really that much of a recluse?”
“No… well, yes. You’re just so busy being super-student and super-mom.”
“I’m neither of those.”
“You are.” She lays her head down on my shoulder, and I lay my head against hers.
“Yeah, well, if I’m super-student and super-mom, you’re super-sister and super-aunt.”
Blakely
“All right, bud,” Keegan says through a smile, “you got this.” I follow behind Keegan and Zane, snapping pictures of Zane on his first skateboard.
When Keegan showed up this morning, with a long, rectangular box in his hand, telling Zane he got him a skateboard, I thought he’d lost his mind and proceeded to tell him so. He laughed and told me to trust him. So, I took a deep calming breath, making him think I was doing as he asked, all the while imagining every worst-case scenario—my son falling and cracking his head open, breaking an arm, scraping his tiny knees on the asphalt. But then I saw the skateboard put together—an adorable SpongeBob design with three blue wheels and matching colored handlebars—and I felt like shit for not trusting him. He even made sure to include a matching helmet and pads.