Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 94903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94903 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
I look at my screen.
Chase: What are you doing?
Me: Figuring out dinner. You?
Chase: Trying not to punch my supervisor.
Me: Sounds like a solid plan.
Chase: I have another solid plan.
Me: Do you?
Chase: I want you to sleep with me tonight.
Me: What about Kennedy?
Chase: Once she’s in her room, she doesn’t come out. I’ll be gone from tomorrow morning until Friday night. I need to get enough of you to hold me over.
Me: You’re insatiable.
Chase: Are you complaining?
Me: Not even a little
Chase: I should be home around seven.
Me: I’ll be here.
Chase: See you then.
Me: See you then.
I set the phone down and stare out the window. The rain continues to come down in buckets.
“You’ll only feel whole and content when you’re there—and that will be your home. That’s where things make sense. That’s where you’re meant to be.”
I march to the table and open my email. My fingers go to the keyboard.
Hi, Dorothy,
Thank you for your email.
While I appreciate you reaching out, I don’t believe Iyala is a good fit for me at this time. I didn’t take this decision lightly. There have been a few opportunities available to me recently that I would like to explore.
I wish you the very best.
Sincerely,
Megan Kramer
I hit send.
And hope I don’t regret it.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chase
“Slow down, Marshall, or you’ll get a ticket.”
I ease my foot off the accelerator and watch my speedometer fall. If only my anxiousness would fall along with it.
The night is dark, and the rain is unrelenting. My windshield wipers squeak as they struggle to keep up with the onslaught pouring out of the sky. Unfortunately, the weather does nothing for my mood; I’m already irritated.
I’ve never been irritated about going home before. What’s odder is that while I’m frustrated about going home, I want to get there. I wish I were already there. I wish this drive were over.
Megan Kramer is turning out to be a double-edged sword in my life.
Each day that passes, I find myself falling harder for her. I enjoy being with her a little more. When I watch her with Kennedy—cooking together or figuring out how to sew a button on a jacket together—I find myself playing the what-if game.
What if this was a thing? What if Megan stuck around? What if Megan and I gave this a try?
In a vacuum, this would work. I have zero doubts. But I don’t reside in a vacuum.
“It’s been two weeks, Chase. You’re outta your mind,” I groan, the words barely audible over the wipers.
The cab of the truck fills with the sound of my ringing phone. I see it’s Mom and accept the call.
“Hey, Mom. It’s pouring here, so I can’t hear very well.”
“Oh. Do you need to go?”
“Nah, I have a ways to go yet. Talk to me.” Distract me from my thoughts. “How are things with Kate?”
Mom laughs. “They’re good. Her new apartment is darling. Of course, she let me pick out her curtains and some rugs.”
“I bet she did.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means you probably paid for them, didn’t you?”
“I can hear you, asshole,” Kate shouts. “How are you, brother?”
I stop at a light in Bricksville just as the rain tapers off. Thank God. “I’m good. How are ya, Kate?”
“Living and loving life. Being a badass like usual.”
“Well, I see you still have your humbleness. That’s good.”
She laughs.
“How is Kennedy?” Mom asks. “Does she miss us yet?”
“Of course, she misses you.”
“Good. I don’t want to become obsolete.”
“Don’t think that’s happening anytime soon,” I say, hitting the accelerator again. “How’s Dad?”
“He’s out golfing with Kate’s neighbor. They’ve golfed almost every day we’ve been here.”
“Hey,” Kate says. “I heard you have a … what did Luke call her? A dime?”
I roll my eyes.
“Her name is Megan,” Mom says.
“Right. Megan,” Kate says, giggling. “How is Megan?”
I grip the steering wheel and cross the city limits.
Fields extend from the road on either side. There’s no light to be seen—no streetlamps or houses lit up. Not a damn thing. Somehow, it’s fitting.
“Megan is good,” I say. “She and Ken are like two peas in a pod.”
“What about you?” Kate asks.
“What about me?”
“Are you two peas in a pod too?”
I shake my head. “What have you done, Mother?”
“I haven’t done a damn thing,” she says. “I simply showed Kate a picture of Megan and let her draw her conclusions.”
“Right. You didn’t guide her to any particular conclusions. Sure. I believe you.”
“Give me the phone, Mom,” Kate says. The line gets muffled before Kate’s voice becomes clear once again. “Hey, it’s me. I walked into my bedroom for a little privacy.”
I sag against my seat.
“Are you doing okay?” she asks. “I know how Mom can be. And she left you there with Megan and Gavin and Luke. Good grief, Chase. How are you surviving? Do you have to fend the boys away with a stick?”