Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 74577 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74577 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
“Gonna need a sign of life in there,” AJ called from the hallway, making my lips curve up as I reached for the door, pulling it open. “Oh, good,” she said, and I was suddenly ridiculously disappointed that she’d put on pants. “What’d you do to your fingers?” she asked, giving the braces on the counter a meaningful look.
“They’ll be fine with the tape,” I assured her. “I’ve hurt my fingers plenty in the past. You can trust me on this one.”
“I’m doubtful given that you thought you could get up by yourself, but okay,” she said, coming in to slide the chair behind me again, then holding it still, so I could get on it. “I kind of want to make zooming noises,” she said as she started pushing me down the hall toward the couch.
“You really know how to make a man feel good about himself,” I teased, but wanted to suck it right back in when I saw the look on her face.
Like she was, I don’t know, scared?
The hell was that about?
“Joking, AJ, joking,” I said, giving her a smile. “Why don’t you leave me here?” I suggested. “That way I will already be up. Go back to sleep.”
“Oh, I’m up now,” she said, waving me off. “I usually get up around six anyway. So… how about I make breakfast?”
“You cook?” I asked, intrigued. When was the last time I had a home-cooked meal? Last Christmas?
“I do,” she said with a sweet little smile that made me think she was not only good at it, but proud of it, but didn’t want to boast.
“Good. ‘Cause I’m fucking starving,” I said, watching her light up.
“Do you have any restrictions?”
“Basically just how much my stomach will hold,” I said, getting a little laugh out of her. It was a good sound, too. A little tinkling sound.
“Coffee?”
“Fuck yes.”
“I’ll get that going first,” she said, all smiles and bright eyes.
Almost like she enjoyed having company. Maybe she did.
And in that case, I went ahead and very slowly rolled my ass into the kitchen with her, moving over toward the table, and out of her way.
“Puzzles, huh?” I asked, finding a piece, and pushing it into place.
“New hobby, I guess,” she said. “Helps the time pass on the long nights.”
“Any other hobbies?”
“Not any that aren’t going to make me sound like I’m eighty years old and hiding sewing equipment in old cookie tins,” she said, shooting me a smirk over her shoulder. “You?”
“Got a lot of hobbies.”
“Like what?”
“Skiing, for one,” I said, waving at myself. “Jumping out of planes or off of bridges.”
“I’ve always wanted to do a bungee,” she told me as she turned the coffee pot on. “I mean I’m absolutely terrified by the idea, but I want to do it anyway.”
“The fear is kind of the point,” I said, nodding.
I ran across a lot of fellow adrenaline junkies in my travels. The majority of them, come to think of it, being men. It was intriguing to find a woman who wanted to dip her toe into it.
“Exactly,” she agreed. “I want to make myself do it. Have some stories to tell the grandkids one day. I don’t think they’d want to hear me confess I spent most of my twenties doing puzzles and birdwatching.”
“Birdwatching is kind of lit, though,” I said, shrugging. “The world has some cool-ass birds.”
“I always wanted to see the Umbrella Cockatoos in Australia,” she told me as she dug an armful of ingredients out of the fridge. Eggs, little bits of veg, some cheese, milk.
It looked like an omelet was in my future.
My stomach let out a painful grumble at the prospect.
“They’re loud as fuck,” I told her. “And daring. They’ll walk right up the railing at a restaurant and pluck food off of your plate. Cute as hell too. Got pictures of them I can show you once I get my phone back. Actually, prolly have a video of them on my channel.”
“Channel?” she asked as she grabbed a bowl.
“I post videos of my travels. The views pay for them and the house.”
“Oh, interesting. Is it all extreme sports stuff?”
“Nah, it’s a little bit of everything when I travel. The sports shit gets the most views, but I post it all. A scrapbook of all the shit I’ve seen and done for one day when I can’t anymore.”
“Keep having accidents like this one and it might be sooner rather than later. Sorry!” she said, whipping around with wide eyes.
At what? The possibility that she might have offended me? What was that about?
“Nothing to be sorry for, sweetheart. You’re right about that. I don’t usually get very hurt. This was out of the norm.”
But now I would have to be even more careful than usual. Because everything was going to be weaker than before. Even if I went through all the physical therapy offered to me. Some shit just never got back to one hundred percent.