Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 112951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112951 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 565(@200wpm)___ 452(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
I was hanging on to his every word. He stopped and I abruptly rolled off the bed. “Oomph!”
“What happened?” I could hear him from my phone, which was on the floor beside me. “Kenz?”
I sat up, ran a hand through my hair, and reached for the phone. My door opened, and Gage popped his head inside. “You okay?”
I twisted around. “I’m fine. Just fell off the bed.” I showed him my phone. “Talking to Shay.”
Shay called out, “Hey, Gage.”
Gage nodded back, frowning next. “I don’t want to know why talking to your boyfriend would make you fall off the bed. Hey, man. See you in a few days.”
“You, too.”
Gage left, shutting the door behind him, but I could hear my mom asking if I was okay. I looked back to Shay, wishing again we lived three hours away from each other and not three states. “My mom is asking Gage if I’m okay. She isn’t going to believe him, and”—her footsteps were in the hallway; I was narrating it—“and she’s going to open that door to make sure I’m okay in three, two—” The footsteps stopped, and she opened my door.
“Honey?”
“I’m talking to Shay.”
“Oh!” A smile spread over her face. She was dressed in a blue and white dress. A frilly apron rested over the dress, and her hair was pulled into a French twist. The only thing missing from her outfit was a vacuum and duster. “Hi, Shay. How are you?”
“I’m good, Ms. Clarke.”
She said to me, “The cookies are ready to be rolled. You promised.”
I sighed. I had.
I was an idiot.
“Yeah. Okay. I’ll be down in a few minutes.”
She lifted a hand and wiggled her fingers. “Talk to you later, Shay. It was so nice to see you again.”
She left, and Shay had a perplexed look on his face. “What was your mom wearing?”
I winced. “She’s convinced our society is returning to the fifties so she’s practicing. She’s dressed up like an old housewife. I promised to help her make cookies.” I cursed under my breath, standing up. “Can we reschedule this move-in thing a couple days earlier? Can I see you in two days instead of four?”
He couldn’t answer. I could only see him shaking his head and his shaking shoulders. When he looked back up, I heard his laughter. “I’m sorry.” He tried to calm down. He couldn’t. A new batch of laughter spilled out. “My mom’s a lawyer with political aspirations. It should be interesting when they meet.”
His mom . . .
I let those words soak in. He was talking about them meeting. That was a good sign, a really good sign. I tried to calm my irrational happiness by laughing with him. “Yeah, well, you don’t live with her. She was a soccer mom last week when she had to take our neighbor’s kids to their soccer game. Everyone was very confused, especially the referee. She came as him for the second game.”
He was still laughing. “Okay.” He wiped a hand over his face, trying to stop. “Oh, man. Okay. I’ll talk to you later. I lo—”
The screen went black.
No.
I couldn’t.
I lo what? I love? I look forward? I lo . . . I racked my brain thinking of other ‘l-o’ words. No, no. I couldn’t go where my heart already was. The ‘lo’ was short for ‘look.’ He looked forward to seeing me in four days, or he looked forward to talking later?
I left my phone on my nightstand and went to the door. I got as far as reaching for the doorknob, before turning back and diving over the bed. I grabbed the phone and texted him.
Me: You look forward? Is that what you said?
It was the longest wait ever.
I willed my phone to buzz back. It didn’t.
I rolled to my back, letting my phone rest on my chest.
Text back. Text back.
Then it did, buzzing close to the breasts that had been missing him.
Coleman: I’m looking forward to fucking your brains out. ;)
I groaned, tossed the phone back onto the stand, and muttered under my breath, “Tease.” But I still had a ridiculous smile on my face when I went to the kitchen.
It was fitting that my mom put on “Hound Dog” by Elvis in the background.
Kristina and Casey had to change rooms since I was moving in. That meant having to wait and move everything once that triple room was open. My stuff had been taken home, but I didn’t have much to take back. I didn’t bring any furniture in the first place. That’d been Missy’s love seat and everything else. I offered a television and microwave, but she said her stuff was already packed. She didn’t want to unpack, so we used her things all semester.
This new semester was different.
I was back on campus, and we came up a day early to get into the room. Shay showed up, along with half the football team. Gage and his roommates were there, as well, and the move took an hour. That was it.