Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 68066 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68066 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
“My brother’s a turd,” she stated suddenly.
I blinked. “Your brother? Flint’s your brother?”
She nodded. “He is. That’s why I know that he’s not usually like that.”
I snorted. “Funny, because he’s always like that with me.”
Her eyes widened. “That’s not Flint.”
Well, I didn’t know what to tell her.
That was Flint, at least when I was around him. I’d seen him be nice to other people, but that’d never extended to me. I had no clue what I’d done to earn his anger, but one day I’d figure it out.
Chapter 3
Roses are red, violets are blue, if he’s busy on Valentine’s Day, the sidechick is you.
-El Arroyo sign
Camryn
I was contemplating which donuts to purchase for my class that morning when I heard the bell behind me jingle.
Being too caught up in the selection process, I didn’t bother to turn. Maybe I should have, though. If I’d turned, I might not have groaned when I bent forward to check out the sprinkled donuts at the bottom of the case.
“How many more do I have to make forty-eight?” I asked, looking up at the woman behind the counter.
“Seven,” she answered. “You want me to fill them out with plain glazed?”
No, I sure didn’t. If I got plain glazed, I’d be eating them when I got home. And I sure the hell didn’t want to be doing that. Not with all that nonsense Flint had spouted as we were leaving class.
“I want to challenge each and every one of you to give up donuts and sugary stuff for breakfast. That includes muffins, most breakfast cereals, and pastries,” he’d said.
When his gaze had landed on mine specifically, I knew he was talking about me and me only.
But, these donuts weren’t for me, so it was okay. Right?
As long as I didn’t get any glazed, I could manage to stay away from them. Sometimes having the tastebuds of a toddler helped. Like now. But, other times, like when I tried to choke down a salad yesterday for lunch and threw up in my mouth, I disliked it.
“No, fill them up the rest of the way with just random ones. The kids will like whatever I bring,” I told her.
“No glazed for real?” she asked, her eyes wide now.
I shook my head sadly and stood up, or at least tried to. I was so sore that I barely managed it.
The only thing that managed to save me from staying down there all morning was the fact that there was a counter I could hold on to and help pull myself up.
Who knew that squats, sit-ups, push-ups, and those goddamn burpees would be so bad? Sure, by themselves they were likely a lot more harmless than when they were strung together like Flint had forced upon us, they became a lot suckier.
“I can’t believe you’re not getting any glazed.” The chick behind the counter shook her head. “Something’s wrong with you, isn’t it? Are you dying?”
I stood up as straight as a sore-as-hell core and back would allow, and offered her my credit card.
“My best friend is getting married and she’s forcing me to go on a diet and start exercising with her. I’ll still be here to pick donuts up once a week for my kids, but not any for me…for now. Who knows what a few weeks will bring,” I explained.
“Shame. You’re one of our best customers,” she pouted.
I didn’t even know this lady’s name. I literally talked to her for all of thirteen seconds while she got my donuts. I had no idea she even knew who I was.
Plus, I wasn’t sure I liked the fact that I came in here so much that she had categorized me as one of her favorite customers.
“Anything else? No coffee drink? No Dr. Pepper?” she asked.
I shook my head sadly and gazed at the Dr. Pepper cooler. “No, those are out, too.”
I sounded just as bummed as I felt. Honestly, it almost sounded like I’d lost my job and not my access to sugar.
“Okkkay.” She sighed. “I guess I’ll have to be happy with this. That’ll be thirty-two fifty.”
I turned to grab some napkins, only to come to a sudden halt when I nearly ran face first into a very hard, uniformed, standing-way-too-goddamn-close-to-me chest.
I backed up a step and looked up to find myself staring into the eyes of the man that’d been the cause of all my pain this morning.
I narrowed my gaze and pinched my mouth shut.
“Flintstone,” I said smartly.
“Elvis,” he countered.
I gritted my teeth and held my breath, unwilling to say anything to him that might come back to bite me in the ass.
“Why are you standing so close to me?” I asked.
“Because there’s a line since you took so long choosing which donuts to get with sprinkles and the line was backed up outside the door. I had to move forward or everyone else would’ve had to stand outside.”