Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 112279 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 561(@200wpm)___ 449(@250wpm)___ 374(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112279 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 561(@200wpm)___ 449(@250wpm)___ 374(@300wpm)
They handled their adversaries.
That wasn’t my first response, but I’d been inducted enough into their family to go with the flow. Usually.
Not this time, though. This time, it felt different.
I felt different.
I didn’t know what was happening, but something was.
It was crawling under my skin, slowly coming up and covering my whole body. It was like a weird awareness that I had no control over and couldn’t stop, and it was annoying the shit out of me.
Tucking the phone into the crook of my head and shoulder, I went to the minibar and poured myself a glass of brandy. I carried it out onto the wraparound balcony, where one side looked out over Seattle, and the other had a view of the water.
I loved Seattle.
I loved Boston and Fallen Crest, but Seattle was different. It felt different, or maybe it was just me. Maybe I was different here?
I loved it in a way I didn’t love the other places.
“Bro.”
Logan was speaking in my ear.
“Yeah?” I had the glass in my one hand and grabbed the phone in my other one, hitting the button so it was now on speaker. I needed to feel free for some reason, and keeping a phone pressed to my ear couldn’t give me that sensation.
“You okay? I’ve been talking for the past three minutes, and you haven’t said a word.”
“Bro.” I used his word right back. “You talk a lot.”
He grunted. “True. Still. My Soul Brotha Connection sensations are tingling. Something’s up with you. What is it?”
I had to grin at that.
Logan Kade was a lot. He could be a dick, annoying, loyal, funny, but sometimes, like just now, he was endearing. And if you were one of the people he cared about, it was a privileged world to live in. I never took it for granted, not anymore. He and his brother.
“I’m good. I think I just need a hard run, that’s all.”
“Too many business meetings. You should stick to a max of two a week. You’re rich. You can afford it.”
“Like you can talk. You’re a workaholic.”
“Sticking it to someone is my life’s passion. That shit ain’t work.”
“You still work a lot.”
“It’s called playing. I play a lot, and I know what you’re doing. Stop distracting me, dude. What’s up with you?”
“Nothing. I mean it. Just need a hard workout. That’s all.”
Logan was quiet for a moment. “Okay, but I’m here. I always give you shit, but I love you.”
See? Endearing.
“I know. I appreciate it. Right back at you.”
“Go and get fucked.”
We said our goodbyes, and Logan was right.
I was best friends with him and his brother, Mason. I knew Mason first, but then Logan and I became tighter later in the years. I might talk to Logan more, but my bond with Mason went deeper at times. I couldn’t explain it. Both were family to me, so I wasn’t surprised Logan had picked up on my restlessness.
A good fuck was needed.
Tossing the rest of my drink back, I ignored the burn and scrolled through my phone.
Valerie was from here. She traveled almost as much as I did now, but she and I weren’t a steady item. We were more steady bedmates. No exclusivity. No relationship. That’d never been her and me, even since the first time we hooked up back in college. It was after a big game for Mason, so the festivities had been extreme. I went to a bar and picked up a redhead who had me smiling the first second I saw her. She had me laughing within the next thirty seconds of talking, and I then took her home.
I meant to reach out later, maybe see what could be there, but I didn’t. I didn’t know why I didn’t, I just didn’t. Then she reached out six months later.
We met up and had a hot night.
The day after, she flew to Chicago, and I had my first investment meeting.
No phone calls were exchanged. No texts.
Until the next time she was in Boston, and we had a repeat. After that, it became our thing. If we were ever in the area of the other one, we shared a night, then went on with our normal lives the next day.
That all ended two years ago, and I had no idea why.
I called that night two years ago and was sent straight to voicemail.
I texted her. No response.
A few months into ghosting me, she changed her phone number.
Nothing new had been posted to her social media.
I tried looking her up at her job, but nothing. She wasn’t on their website.
Then I got an event notice online for her engagement party. She and another guy were smiling all nice for the photographer so that explained what happened. Still, though. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think about her.
Something still nagged in the back of my mind about her.