Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 136025 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 680(@200wpm)___ 544(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136025 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 680(@200wpm)___ 544(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
Farrow barely skims the page. “You forgot to write the tour is his idea.”
Yeah, I still can’t believe Beckett Cobalt concocted this plan. To help Janie, his sister, most of all. It’s why his twin brother Charlie agreed. Heaven and Earth and every air particle knows Charlie didn’t signup for a 4-month tour just for me.
He may be at the lake house out of support, but the seeds of our relationship are still rotted. They have been since that night on the yacht. Nothing good can grow overnight.
And Jane said that Sulli talked about the moments where I’d been there for her. Like the time when she thought she broke her foot on a desert hike. I carried her in a piggyback for eight miles, and I kept trying to calm her. Saying she was a kickass human being and strong. I gave her my canteen early on, and her tears soaked my shirt. She kept telling me her swim career was over, and for Sulli, swim was synonymous with life.
Even at twelve.
I was fifteen, and I remember how when we reached the end of the primitive trail, her parents found us. Uncle Ryke and Aunt Daisy immediately drove their daughter to the ER, and I felt responsible for Sulli getting hurt.
For eight miles, I wished that’d been my foot.
I keep shaking my head, and I grip the counter. “Everything I’ve ever done,” I tell Farrow, “it wasn’t to cash in for a favor later. I never thought I’d be in a position where my younger cousins feel obligated to put their careers and lives on hold.” For Jane.
For me.
Fuck. “We’re the ones who’ve protected them,” I explain to him. “We even used to take their phones and block numbers of porn producers who had called us. Just so they wouldn’t be able to fucking reach them.”
Farrow shuts the binder. “Look at me.”
I can barely rotate my taut shoulders. I want to open the fucking binder and reread everything. Again.
“Maximoff—”
“I get it. I’m overthinking.” I’m white-knuckling the counter, and finally, I look at my boyfriend.
His eyes carry complete understanding. And somehow he still looks like he’d love to undo my tight-laces. “I’d be irritated, too, if my younger cousins decided to pay it forward when I didn’t want to be paid. But it’s happening, and you have to deal.”
I nod, my neck stiff. I want to be the kind of guy who can thank them, but I’m not there yet. I recognize the power in family, in that willingness and sacrifice, but just having this conversation, I feel like I failed Sulli and Beckett and even Charlie.
I reopen the binder. I circled the date December 14th a billion times. The start date. It’s soon.
“What are you thinking?” Farrow asks.
“None of us will be here for Christmas.” My family normally stays at the lake house for Christmas—a pretty secure place—and our personal bodyguards are allowed to leave and spend the holiday with their families. “I’m thinking about how you and the rest of SFO will feel—”
“We don’t care,” Farrow cuts me off.
I frown. “You sure?”
He smiles. “Man, most of us are in our late twenties. No kids, no spouses, no other obligations. We’re fine to spend holidays where our work takes us.” He lifts his spoon to his mouth. “We know what we signed up for.”
I nod again. My little brother turns fifteen on Christmas day. I’ll miss his birthday, and I don’t want to hurt him. I think it might.
Me being in a serious relationship—it’s new to my family. Cousins and siblings have been blowing up my group chats since they found out I’m dating a bodyguard.
Kinney texted that I’m uninvited to her funeral until I go on a double date with her and her future girlfriend. Luna keeps sending me confetti and thumbs-up emojis. But Xander…
He hasn’t said anything at all.
Maybe my little brother is thinking back to the hickey on my neck. And how I could’ve confessed the truth then. Maybe he thinks we’re not as close as he believed we were. Maybe he’s questioning everything.
I tried calling him multiple times today, and he never answered. I’d rather eat a bowl of nails than be out of touch with my brother. So I’m hoping I can reach him soon.
All the thoughts about my relationship sidetrack me. I crack a knuckle. “How is this going to be…for us?” I ask Farrow.
He cocks his head slightly. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve been thinking a lot—”
“No shit.”
I almost smile. And he notices. Fuuck.
Farrow stares at me like I blew him. Way too satisfied.
I pull my face, brows scrunched. Scowling. “Like I was saying,” I tell him, “how am I going to survive being on a bus with you for four months. Plus my family, plus SFO, and again, you. Sounds like hell.”
His mouth upturns. “Sounds like fun.”