Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 90919 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90919 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
“You’ve read years of signs wrong?” Frankie asked doubtfully.
“A year,” I corrected. “If that.”
“Uh, no,” Lou chimed in. “Way longer than a year. He was undressing you with his eyes for a lot longer than that.”
“I can tell you exactly when it started,” Frankie said, leaning back against the counter. “It was that camping trip when you wore that little pink bikini. When was that? Freshman year of college?”
“Oh, yeah,” Lou agreed, nodding. “I remember that.”
“It was between sophomore and junior year,” I corrected. I remembered that bikini. The strap had broken halfway through the trip, and I’d had to wear a ratty one-piece from high school the rest of the time.
“See, it’s been years.” Frankie shot me a grim smile. “And if you weren’t reading the signs right, none of us were either. Everyone has seen how he looks at you. Not just us.”
“Well, he made it pretty clear last night that everyone was wrong.”
“I don’t know, My,” Lou said with a wince. “Really, I think he was just surprised.”
“He shouldn’t have been,” Frankie countered. “Myla’s always called him out on his shit.”
“Yeah, but it was different,” Lou argued.
“He needs to man up,” Frankie said flatly. “I love the guy, but seriously, grow a pair.”
“Do you think he’ll agree to just pretend it didn’t happen?” I asked quietly. “Because that’s really the ideal outcome at this point.”
Frankie laughed.
“He’ll call,” Lou assured me. “He probably just needed a minute to think about it.”
“He’s had enough minutes,” Frankie shot back. “I say we go out tonight and find you a random.”
“That is the worst idea in the history of ideas,” Lou hissed. “Don’t listen to her.”
My dad called Lou and Frankie the angel and devil on my shoulders. He wasn’t wrong.
“Well, I’m sure he’ll let you know what’s going on at some point,” Frankie said with a sigh, straightening from her slouch. “But right now you need to get your ass dressed and go thrifting with us.”
“Yes!” Lou cheered. “Thrifting makes everything better. It’s science.”
“We really shouldn’t be buying anything else,” I muttered as I stood up. “We don’t have any room for more shit.”
“There’s always more room,” Frankie argued. “Plus, we’ll eventually move out—”
“No, we won’t,” Lou called as we left her in the kitchen. “We’re going to live here together until we’re little old ladies with cats!”
“She really needs to get laid,” Frankie joked quietly. “Anyway, we have so much stuff that when we move out, we’ll already have all the furniture we need.”
“But until that point, we’ll look like hoarders,” I replied, leaving her in the hallway.
I didn’t really feel like going anywhere, but we’d all been friends long enough that I knew resistance was futile. They’d drag my ass with them whether I felt like facing the day or not. It was something I loved about us. No woman was left behind, even if that woman was feeling heartbroken and more than a little humiliated.
“I found an estate sale! We need to go soon or everything good will be gone,” Lou called through my door. “They open in half an hour!”
Throwing on some jeans and a sweater, I grabbed my raincoat out of the closet. It wasn’t raining yet, but the sky was an ominous gray. It was always safe to plan for rain in the fall. Even on days you thought it would be clear—in Oregon, the chance of a surprise rain shower was pretty high.
Pausing at my vintage vanity, I pulled my hair up into a high bun and swiped on some lip gloss and mascara. It didn’t do much to hide the fact that I’d clearly had a hard night, but at least I looked a little more put together. I left the room and met the girls by the front door just as my phone rang.
“Is it Cian?” Lou asked as I followed them outside.
My heart pounded until I pulled the phone out of my jacket pocket. “No, my mom.”
“He better get his shit together,” Frankie told Lou as I put the phone to my ear. “If he doesn’t call soon, we’re going to move on to the angry part of the Myla show. She’s sad now. Later, it’ll be rage.”
I flipped her off. “Hey, Mom.”
“Hey, baby, whatcha doin?”
“Headed to an estate sale. What are you doing?”
“I’m bored,” she said with a laugh. “Your dad’s doing something with Uncle Will, so I’m just sitting at home.”
“Why don’t you call Aunt Molly? She’s probably as bored as you.”
“No, she’s doing something with Reb today. That’s why Will stole your dad. He was the original bored person.”
I laughed.
“Ask her if she wants to come with us,” Frankie said as we climbed in her Tahoe. “I’ll pick her up.”
“You want us to come get you?” I asked Mom.
“Yes,” she replied before I’d even stopped talking. “I just need to put my face on.”