Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 71915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
“Pretty good, I think.” Bailey glanced at me. “Our schedule is busy, but we still find time to study.”
I nodded as his father said, “Glad to hear it. I know it can be hard to balance it all.”
Apparently, Mr. Duval had been quite the athlete as well in college—wrestling, if I remembered correctly.
“So, I thought I’d take you to dinner,” Mr. Duval said. “Maybe that steak restaurant I like so much.”
“Sounds awesome,” Bailey replied, his smile even brighter.
Mr. Duval looked over at me. “Want to tag along, Alex? My treat.”
“I can’t today, but thanks.” I motioned with my thumb toward the dorms. “I’ve got some studying to do.”
Mr. Duval nodded, then gripped Bailey’s shoulder. “Let’s go see if Remy would like to join us.”
Bailey’s jaw twitched. “He might be at work.”
“Then it’s high time I saw his workplace too.”
I was glad Mr. Duval was interested in what Remy was up to, and I hoped the visit went well. But I could see the tension rolling off Bailey as they began walking across campus.
Without much thought, I lifted my cell to scroll to Remy’s number.
Incoming, Ted. Your dad and Bailey are headed to you. Surprise visit.
Seriously? Thanks for the heads-up. What’s the occasion?
Just said he had the time.
Great. Knowing Remy, I took that reply as sarcasm. Please tell me you’re tagging along. Hate being the third wheel with those two.
I turned down his offer.
Well, fuck, that only makes it more awkward.
Sorry. It’ll be okay. You got this.
Thanks.
When I lifted my head, I could still see Bailey and his dad in the distance, so I jogged to catch up.
“Does your offer still stand?” I said, out of breath.
Mr. Duval’s eyebrows rose. “Of course. Glad to have you.”
Bailey smirked. “Couldn’t pass up a good meal, huh?”
My face heated. “Something like that.”
We talked swimming all the way to Remy’s place, and he acted surprised when he answered the door. When he spotted me behind Bailey, his eyebrows rose to his hairline, but I could see the relief in his expression.
“Join us for dinner?” Mr. Duval asked.
“Sure, just let me lock up,” he replied, leaving us on the front porch and reappearing a minute later. He was still in shorts, but he’d changed shirts.
The conversation was a bit strained as we walked to the more upscale place Mr. Duval preferred. Once seated around the table, I absently began stuffing bread in my mouth from the basket the server had brought over. It helped relieve the awkwardness. And okay, I was starving too.
Remy smirked at me across the table, and I gently kicked his leg. He caught my foot with both of his own and held me there, making me choke on the soda I’d sipped to wash down the bread. I could feel the wiry hairs on his legs as I squirmed in my seat. I was going to kill him.
Mr. Duval seemed to be making an effort with Remy by inquiring about classes and his job, and Remy pretended to be none the wiser about our leg situation as he settled back in his seat and answered his questions. And who was I kidding? I wasn’t complaining. His skin was warm, and any contact with him was always a bonus.
When he mentioned his boss, Bruno, his dad motioned to his arm. “Is that who does your tattoos?”
“Yeah, I trust him.” He pointed to his newest tattoo. “Does this look familiar?”
Mr. Duval squinted at the Little Peep tattoo with a strained smile. “Bet your mom likes that.”
“She does.” The more civilized the conversation between Remy and his dad, the more sullen Bailey grew, like he was a five-year-old or something. It took me back to those summers at Hummingbird Lake when Bailey was hyper-focused on getting his dad’s attention with every dive or cannonball.
I realized then just how much he needed that attention from his dad. I understood Bailey’s craving for it, given how invisible I felt in my own house sometimes. Which was likely why I allowed Mrs. Duval to dote on me as if I were her third child. I felt special spending time with them.
Tuning back into the conversation—they were still discussing the tattoo parlor—I couldn’t help blurting out, “You should see Remy’s more recent art. It’s amazing.”
“Is that right?” Mr. Duval studied Remy, who shifted uncomfortably.
“Wait, how did you see his art?” Bailey asked, and Remy’s eyes widened.
Well, now I’d only made it more awkward.
“Oh, um…I told you I was considering a swim tattoo, so I stopped by Indelible Ink a few weeks ago, and Remy showed me some of his stuff.”
Remy trapped my foot with his legs again, sending a shiver through me. No way I’d mention the art studio. That might send Bailey over the edge.
Bailey looked between us. “You never told me that.”
I shrugged. “Why would I, when you seemed so against me getting a tattoo?”