Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 98412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
“Oh, shit!” Etta parroted, running toward the door. “Oh, shit! Twevo!”
“You’re clearly happy to see me,” Trevor joked, his lips twitching in amusement.
“Twevo!” Etta yelled again, throwing herself at him.
My heart skipped a beat as I tried to catch her, but thankfully Trevor was already there, dropping the stuffed animal so he could sweep her up against his chest before she tripped over the threshold.
“Hey, sweet thing,” he said happily as Etta’s grimy arms wrapped around his neck. “I missed you.”
“God, I’m sorry,” I muttered as I picked the stuffed giraffe off the ground. “Uh, here.” I tried to hand him the toy, but he didn’t reach for it.
“Cool music,” he said instead, settling Etta more firmly on his arm. “One of my favorites.” He stared at me for a long moment, then swallowed hard. “You going to let me in?”
I remembered vividly the last time he’d said those words to me, but I didn’t reply the way I had before. My tongue felt glued to the roof of my mouth as I stepped back from the doorway so he could come inside the house. There were cleaning supplies all over the place, the music was still blaring, and I could feel a bead of sweat rolling down my back beneath my T-shirt. I wanted to sink through the floor in mortification.
“Mama cleanin’,” Etta said proudly. “Me helpin’.”
“I see that,” he replied, his eyes twinkling. “It looks like you were eating candy, too.”
“Fruit snacks,” I clarified, my cheeks heating as I tried to push my messy hair back toward my ponytail.
“You need any help?”
“No,” I blurted quickly. “No, that’s okay. We were almost done.”
Etta started rambling, probably trying to tell Trevor what we’d been doing when he showed up, but neither of us paid very much attention. We were stuck, staring at each other.
I wasn’t sure why he was there. We hadn’t talked since I’d left his house, and he was the last person I would have thought was at the door. Clearly, I was an idiot, because he was standing right in front of me. His T-shirt and shorts looked clean, but wrinkled, and he smelled good like he’d just taken a shower.
“I missed you,” he said softly as Etta squirmed to get down.
“What are you doing here?” I asked as he set Etta on her feet.
“I missed you,” he repeated, his gaze meeting mine as he rose back to his full height.
“But—” I shook my head in confusion, but I couldn’t look away from him.
I’d done a very good job of blocking thoughts of him since I’d been home. Between dealing with Miranda and trying to keep my dad from completely losing it, I hadn’t really had a moment to myself to wallow. I hadn’t let my mind wander in his direction because, honestly, I’d had too much on my plate already. Now that he was standing just two feet away, ignoring him was impossible and I couldn’t believe I’d been able to do it in the first place.
“I haven’t heard from you,” he said gently.
“You could have called,” I replied, lifting my hands and letting them fall back to my sides.
“Would you have answered?”
“Yes.”
“Really?”
“Maybe,” I confessed sheepishly.
He nodded in understanding but didn’t look away. “How’s Miranda?”
“Better.” I glanced over to see Etta lying on the floor on top of a couch cushion. “She actually went on a trip this morning with an old family friend.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Mm-hmm.”
I brushed my hair out of my face again, barely holding back a grimace. I was pretty sure I stank. The T-shirt I was wearing was my dad’s, the basketball shorts were from God knew where, and my toenail polish was so chipped it looked hideous. He’d shown up at the worst possible moment.
“Morgan,” Trevor said, moving my hand away from my hair. “It’s fine.”
“I need a shower,” I replied ruefully. “I wasn’t exactly expecting company.”
“You look beautiful.”
“No, I’m disgusting.”
“Stop,” he muttered, the tone one I’d never heard from him before. “Stop fidgeting.”
He took a deep breath and ran a hand over his beard.
“Put Etta in her crib,” he ordered, startling me a little.
I turned to look at her as I began to argue, but my mouth snapped shut when I realized that she’d fallen asleep on the floor. It was the first time in a week I hadn’t had to listen to her whine about her nap for a half hour before she fell asleep. Without a word, I moved around him and scooped her up. It took only a few minutes to get her settled in our room, and when I came out and closed the door behind me, Trevor was waiting in the hall.
“I thought it was probably a mistake, coming down here,” he said quietly, stepping into my space. “Hadn’t heard from you in a while and I wasn’t sure what kind of reception I’d get.”