Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 90721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90721 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
I was making fake macaroni since it was one of the few things Sebastian had in the house. He’d said he hadn’t had time to go to the store in a while, and it showed. Which was why we were eating macaroni and sausage instead of a home cooked meal made by scratch.
I didn’t much like boxed food.
Then again, I’d been spoiled growing up. My mom made something homemade every night. It was very rare for the family to actually go out to dinner. Now, when I had the chance, I made sure to cook from scratch, craving that touch of home.
“Why are you massacring that box?” Sebastian asked concerned.
“I spilled the cheese out of the other one. I need another cheese, so I’m trying to get it out of this one, but the stupid ‘press here’ perforated edged shit doesn’t work. Mother of pearl!” I growled.
“Give me the box.” Sebastian snapped his fingers holding his hand out.
I glared at him, determined to do it myself.
After the next minute of struggling, I finally relented and handed him the box.
With smooth, deft movements, the son of a bitch opened it, and handed it to me with a look of incredulity. “Are you serious...you couldn’t open that?”
I snatched the box out of his hand, spilling uncooked noodles all over the ground in the process. Extracting the cheese, I poured the package into the pot and stirred.
“Why didn’t you make the third box?” Sebastian asked as he nudged me out of the way and took over the stirring portion of the job.
I glared at him. He did that easily as well.
“Two boxes seemed enough. Why?” I asked warily.
“Well, considering me and the boy can down two by ourselves, if you’d been interested in eating more than a tiny helping, then you should’ve made three. I didn’t put three boxes out just for the hell of it.” Sebastian grumbled.
“Whatever. Guess I won’t eat.” I sniffed.
The metal spoon Sebastian was using hit the side of the pot with a clink when he dropped it. He’d turned around, crossed his arms over his chest, and glared at me.
“Don’t pull that pitiful shit on me. What’s your fucking problem?” He finally asked.
I didn’t want to tell him I was feeling emotional. Didn’t want to tell him that the last three days had been horrible. I’d missed him terribly, and my being on the most dreaded time of the month didn’t really help matters, either.
“What’s your problem?” I shot back.
“My problem? You really want to go there?” He finally asked.
My back straightened at his tone of voice. “Yeah, I really want to fucking go there.”
Then I felt instantly bad because Sebastian’s child was at the table behind me. Or he had been. Now he was on the floor underneath the kitchen chair sleeping. I wanted to laugh, but I was in too good of a snit to stop it now.
“My problem,” he said, stepping so close that my hips bumped against the kitchen counter as I tried to step away from his advance. “Is that you keep fucking jumping to conclusions. You took three torturous days to decide that you wanted to be with me. Now that I think about it, I’m not really sure if you chose me on your own free will or if it was because someone called to tell you I was hurt, and you felt the need to be there for me. Oh, and I’m fucking horny!”
I stopped retreating at his asinine assumption and pushed forward. “I’d put the vest on even before I got your call. I was coming to see your ass at the station. This is the first day that I haven’t felt like utter shit. I’ve texted you a ton in the last few days!”
“Property patch. And what could possibly have bothered you that much that you couldn’t come to me?” He growled, leaning closer.
“Oh, just, you know...a period! They aren’t very forgiving for me. I get weak and sick to my stomach. The blood loss isn’t anything to sneeze at either. I don’t even work those times of the month. I have to call in sick.”
Sebastian’s eyes narrowed. “You’re going to tell me that because you were on the rag you couldn’t come see me?”
I ground my teeth together to keep from shouting my head off at him and risk waking up Johnny. “Yeah, I’m telling you it was because I’m on the fucking rag that it took me three days to come see you. I sure didn’t see your ass at my front door. I invited you over!”
“I was busy. I couldn’t just drop everything to come see you, even though I wanted to. Why is this so bad for you, when millions of other women function with their periods every damn day?” He said, caging me in with his arms.
Was he being serious, or was he provoking me?
Did he want to fight about this? Because I was about to oblige him.
“You remember when I fell and scraped my hand? Or how about when I poked my finger? Imagine that times about ten. Except for, you know, lower.”
The conversation got harder to speak about after that. Needless to say, by the time I was finished explaining, he felt sorry for me and wanted to buy me a cupcake and even offered a backrub.
“Now, go wake that kid of yours up and let’s try to get him to eat.” I instructed, placing Johnny’s plate on the table.
Sebastian yelled at Johnny to get up while he fixed his own plate, and I narrowed my eyes at him. “Hey! I could’ve done that!”
I hadn’t meant to, but I was laughing. It felt so good to laugh with him again. Even if it made my ribs ache.
The sound of Sebastian’s phone had his smile dying from his face as he dug it out of his pocket and answered it with a frown.
“Yeah?” He answered as he walked stiffly into the hallway, and then beyond to his bedroom.
His voice was muffled after that, but I could tell he was pissed.