Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 68920 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68920 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
We lost our parents.
This may not be normal to most people, but it’s normal for us.
I wake up sweating. Tangled up with another person. I’m smashing her into the cushions with my weight. I fumble in the darkness, seeking her hip to move her from the crack of the couch. Instead of finding hip, I find bare skin over her ribs. It’s shocking they’re so defined. I rub my fingers along each one, dipping into the grooves between them until my thumb brushes along something fleshy and soft. It takes a second to realize I just touched my sister’s breast. By accident and the underside, but I still touched it.
Fuck.
“I’m just not hungry,” she murmurs the moment I slide my thumb back down over her ribs.
I freeze, wondering if she’ll call me a sicko for touching her. I should apologize, but shame has my lips remaining glued shut. I turn toward her face and my nose brushes against her cheek.
“I wish you’d try and eat,” I say finally.
“I’ll try.”
Lately, my life feels so fucked up, but in the dark, it feels okay. With Rylie safe and cared for, I feel relaxed and not so goddamned stressed.
“When you graduate, can I live with you?” she asks, her hot breath tickling my face.
“Yes,” I say without hesitation. Amy will just have to get over it. If that’s what Rylie needs to thrive, then so be it.
“I still won’t make you food,” she teases.
My heart clenches in my chest. It’s the first sign of happiness in my sister I’ve seen all night. “I’ll just have to find something to eat,” I say, clacking my teeth as though I’m seeking out something to eat on her.
“Hudson,” she hisses, laughter in her voice.
I playfully bite her. Her jaw it would seem. We both freeze.
“I’m sick,” she whimpers. Another reminder.
“Maybe I’m sick too.” I press a kiss to the place I just bit her.
She lets out a groan and her fingers rake down the side of my arm. I kiss her jaw again. Or is it her neck?
“I like it when you laugh,” I whisper, my lips dusting over her flesh. “I like it when you eat.” I clutch her bare ribs again. “I like it when you’re happy.”
Nothing makes sense right now.
In an effort to comfort Rylie, I’ve lost sight of who we are.
The darkness hides us.
For a minute, we’re free.
Her thigh slides over my hip. Dirty thoughts run rampant in my mind. Maybe I should have fucked Amy to clear my head because right now, my thoughts are not where they should be.
“Rylie,” I groan, my lips hovering over her neck. “I don’t think this is normal.”
“I like how this makes me feel.”
Digging deep for some shred of self-control, I pry my lips away from her neck and slide my palm away from her bare flesh. It had been inching up and I was going to do something more than an accidental touching. That’s the last thing I need to do. Fuck my sister up even more.
“Maybe you should sleep in your bed,” I grumble, hating the words as they leave my mouth.
“Please don’t make me leave.” Her voice cracks at the end.
Hauling her closer, I hug her tight. “Never. Just go to sleep. Otherwise…” My words hang heavy in the air. “Just go to sleep.”
“I’ll try.”
“I’ll try too.”
“Hudson?”
“Yeah?”
“Please don’t be weird about this tomorrow.”
I smile and kiss her hair. “I’ll try.”
“I’ll try too.”
Rylie
“Camping. I don’t know…” Aunt Becky trails off.
I know she’s torn between controlling me and getting me out of her hair. She and Randy could never have kids. I think almost two months of having me live here, she realizes she dodged a bullet. I’m not easy by any means.
“I’ll make her take her medicine,” Hudson assures her.
I blush when he winks at me. This morning, I slipped out of the basement and snuck into the shower because I needed relief. After last night, my mind has been buzzing like mad.
My brother.
I can’t make sense of it.
Last night was…nice.
The way he touched me felt so intimate. Like a spell I didn’t want to break. In the dark, it’s easy to be brave. In the bright light of the day, I melt under his intense stares.
“Fine. Be careful. No drinking, Huds. If you guys float down the river, be careful. I don’t want a call saying my niece and nephew drowned in the Niangua.” She purses her lips and then waves us along. “You’re burning daylight. Go.”
A couple of hours later and we’re in the car headed to the river. It’s nearly a two-hour drive and we should arrive later this afternoon with plenty of time to enjoy the sunshine. Hudson turns on a playlist of the songs I’ve been sending him. I’m overly giddy of the fact he’s taken the time to collect the songs. We listen to Radiohead and I Google campsites. Hudson tells me about his friend Nick and some of the other baseball players. But mostly, we talk about Mom and Dad. It’s therapeutic. I don’t like talking to Aunt Becky even though Mom was her older sister. I’m not sure Hudson talks to Amy about them much either. It’s like something we can bond over. Our loss. Our memories. Our family.