Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 66289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
“Dude.” Rylan bursts through my door, his phone in hand. “Why didn’t you tell me Irie used to be a friggin’ cheerleader?”
“The hell are you talking about? Let me see.” Pretty sure she would have mentioned something like that to me by now.
Rylan hands me his phone, where it appears he’s Googled “Irie Davenport.” If it were any other asshole, I’d clock him for it because my girlfriend is none of his damn business, but I’ve known Ryland since our sophomore year and he’s always had a peculiar obsession with Googling everybody—it’s never anything personal, it’s just something he does because he’s a giant fucking weirdo.
I scroll through the first image on the screen and stop on the second I recognize an all-too-familiar face. Pinching to zoom in, it takes all of a single second to confirm that it is, indeed, my girlfriend dressed in a full cheerleader’s uniform, complete with a sky-high ponytail tied with a glossy red ribbon. Her hands are at her hips, fists full of red and black pom-poms, and she’s grinning wide as she stands front and center before her squad.
The caption below says, “Cheer squad captain Irie Davenport does her part to lead the Iron Cross Rams to a homecoming victory.”
“Huh.” I hand Ryland his phone.
I can only assume there are a million other things I’ve yet to learn about her.
A weekend in her hometown should help fill in some of those blanks.
Chapter 29
Irie
“Take a right up here,” I point up ahead as Talon brings the Nissan we rented to a slow crawl just short of my aunt and uncle’s driveway. “It’s the white house at the end of the street.”
The flight went smoothly. Aunt Bette downed two glasses of cheap chardonnay at an airport bar before we boarded, Talon zoned out with headphones in his ears, and I read a paperback I grabbed from a gift shop. There wasn’t an ounce of turbulence or so much as a minute of a delay and yet I’ve been tense all afternoon.
My head throbs and my stomach churns.
Coming home—if I can even call it that—is something I’ve been dreading ever since Lauren and Jack sent their save-the-dates last fall and Bette RSVP’d the two of us.
Talon pulls into my aunt and uncle’s driveway, parking off to the side. Judging by the number of unfamiliar vehicles lining the street, I’d say they’re in the midst of doing some pre-wedding entertaining, which is probably a good thing. I just want to show up, make my appearance, and get the hell out of here. The fewer exchanges the better.
He kills the engine and climbs out to grab our luggage from the trunk as I help Bette out of the backseat. We’re all halfway up the front walk when the door swings open and Lauren comes dashing out, a vision in a white sheath dress, her hair an icier shade of blonde than the last time I saw her.
She wraps her arms around Aunt Bette, making a show of their reunion despite the fact that Bette has never been all that fond of Lauren nor have they ever been close. But Bette plays along, hugging Lauren back and telling her how beautiful she looks.
Lauren glides her palm down the side of her head before tucking her hair behind one ear and feigning a humble thank you.
“Aunt Bette, so glad you’re here,” Aunt Elizabeth steps out from inside, arms wide open as she comes toward us. Her smile and embrace are reserved only for Bette, which is fine with me, but it doesn’t make this moment any less awkward or uncomfortable for half of us.
“Irie,” Elizabeth says, turning to me and clasping her wiry hands tight in front of her narrow hips. “Did you have a nice flight?”
“We did,” I say.
Her eyes move from mine to Talon and back, her lips puckered tight. “Well, aren’t you going to introduce us to your friend? I had no idea you were bringing a guest. I hope he was able to find accommodations at the Quality Inn. I know most of the good hotels are booked with wedding guests …”
“This is Talon,” I say. “My boyfriend. Talon, this is my aunt, Elizabeth.”
Talon extends his hand. “Wonderful to meet you, Elizabeth. And don’t worry about me. I was able to find a suite at the Hilton in Peony Falls.”
Aunt Liz’s dusty blue eyes flash for a second. There’s nothing more this woman hates than being one-upped, and everyone knows Peony Falls is a giant step and a half up from anything Iron Cross could ever offer a visitor.
“Well, then,” Liz says. “Why don’t you all come in? We just got back from the rehearsal dinner. Having a small gathering for … close friends and family.” We head inside like ducks in a row. “Oh, and Irie, I wasn’t able to get a hold of your mother, and I tried everything. I’m so sorry. I wasn’t sure if you were hoping to see her or not, but I wanted to let you know.”