Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 88080 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88080 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Knowing it was an accident and not Renaldo helps alleviate any guilt that was starting to plague me. Still fucking horrible, though.
“What about Sebban?” Roux finally manages to croak out.
“They can’t find him,” he whispers. “Fuck.”
Hollis rushes to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him. I can hear him fucking crying and it guts me. How fucked up is the world to give Roan a son but then to take him away? Roux sits up and crawls into my lap. I hold her to me, kissing her hair and whispering assurances that neither of us believes. She falls asleep and I take the time to slide out from under her and hop in the shower. I want to be dressed and ready if I need to leave. By the time I get back to Roux, she’s still asleep. I sit back at my perch, playing with her hair.
I’m not sure how much time passes, but I’m jolted from Hollis’s yelling in the other room. Doesn’t sound like bad yelling. Maybe more like cheering. My phone buzzes with a text.
Roan: We found him in the toy box in his closet under some blankets. They’re life flighting him now. I think he’s going to make it.
The picture he sends is of a tiny, miniature version of my best friend lying on a stretcher. He’s pale and they’ve got him on oxygen, but he’s alive.
Holy shit.
“Babe, look,” I tell Roux. “He’s alive.”
She takes the phone from me and starts to sob at seeing her nephew. “Oh my God.”
A few minutes later, Hollis rushes out, dressed and carrying a backpack. “I’m going to take Roan to the hospital in Portland where they’ve sent Sebban. He’s too shaken up to drive. We’ll call you when we know more. There’s no sense in all of us going up there.”
“Let us know the moment it’s okay to drive out there,” I tell him. “Roux and I will head that way.”
He gives us a quick wave before leaving.
“Why don’t you grab a quick shower? I’ll make breakfast,” I tell Roux.
She nods and disappears. I start rummaging in the kitchen, pulling out whatever I can find to make omelets. I know this has to be the shittiest birthday for Roux, but I’m going to try and make it up to her. By the time I’ve plated the Mexican style omelets—complete with black beans, corn, jalapeno peppers, avocadoes, tomatoes, cheese, and sour cream—and garnished with cilantro, Roux walks out, refreshed from her shower.
The hoodie she’s wearing—one of mine—swallows her. A male sense of pride washes over me. I’m sure she has shorts on underneath, but the fact I can see her bare legs makes me crazy with the need to touch her.
“Smells good,” she says with a smile. “You didn’t have to go through all this trouble.”
I pour some orange juice into two champagne flutes I found in the cabinet. They must have been from Hollis and Roan’s wedding, because it has their initials and wedding date engraved on them. Roux doesn’t seem too bothered because she happily picks up a flute and sips the orange juice.
“It’s your birthday. Of course you deserve a nice breakfast.” I smile at her as I sit down. “Do you feel older?”
She laughs as she cuts into her omelet. “I feel tired.”
“Welcome to adulthood.”
We sit in amicable silence as we eat. All of her groans and praise at my meal does nothing for the state of my cock that’s been half hard since she walked in with her bare legs on display.
“I feel so bad about Sidney and Gio,” she says with a sad sigh. “They gave Roan such shit about Sebban, but I didn’t want them to die.”
I reach across the table and take her hand. “Me neither. All we can do now is be there for your brother. Seems like if Sebban can make it through this, we may be welcoming a new Hoodlum into the fray.”
“Baby Hoodlum.” She smiles. “Little Hoodlum is taken.”
I brush my foot against hers. “She sure is.”
Her amber eyes ignite with fire. I want to haul her into my arms and kiss her until she can’t breathe. Instead, I enjoy one of our rare moments alone. With no makeup on and her wet hair messy and wild, I still can’t help but think she’s the most beautiful girl in the world.
“How’s your boyfriend?” I ask, threading my fingers with hers. “He being good to you?”
She sticks her tongue out at me.
“Keep that tongue in your mouth unless you’re ready to use it. I know for a fact you’re not ready.”
Her amusement fades as her eyes water. “Jordy, this is hard. I… He wants to have sex.”
Ice surges through my veins at her words. “Don’t fuck him.”
“I don’t plan on it,” she cries out. “But we’re at the shit or get off the pot point in our relationship. I don’t know what to do.”