Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22303 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 112(@200wpm)___ 89(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22303 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 112(@200wpm)___ 89(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
“Ugh, I’m so dumb.” Maybe a hot cup of tea will help. As for the puffiness beneath my eyes, that’s another story. I don’t think any amount of cold gel patches in the fridge will help, and that’s okay. I’m in the ‘misery loves company’ mood right now and want to stay here. I grab the tea kettle off the stove to fill with water. The microwave would be faster, but it’s never hot enough. I want it scalding hot, enough to burn my tongue. Once the kettle is full, I place it on the stove and turn the burner on high. While it heats up, I grab a mug, a tea bag, a spoon, and the small sugar jar I keep in the cabinet. Then, because I’m a horrible cat mom, I prepare Kitty Kitty her favorite, a can of tuna with treats. She’s well fed daily, given attention. She just didn’t get the extra love last night. In fact, Kitty Kitty wasn’t in her usual spot when I came home. Maybe she knew her Mamá was getting some, so she went on a prowl herself.
The kettle whistles, and I’m glad. While I love Kitty Kitty, the tuna stench is not my favorite, which is why she usually gets dry food. I push the bowl away from my nose. Today, the smell is getting to me more than normal. It’s not like I drank a lot. There wasn’t much time between meeting my family, going to the restroom, and then dance. Easton and I couldn’t make it much longer, both of us burning for way more than him getting me off.
“Shut up, brain,” I say to no one, and with nothing else to do except make my cup of tea, I do just that. The monotonous task should keep my mind busy, except it doesn’t. Once my tea is doctored up, I grab the mug, Kitty Kitty’s food, and make my way to the front porch. Even if my cat isn’t out there, I won’t have to deal with the mess inside my house. Never mind the emotional hangover I’m currently experiencing.
I open the door one handed, praying that I don’t get tuna fish on my robe. That may be the straw that breaks the camel’s back today. “Kitty Kitty, are you out here?” Her meow echoes under the covered roof. She’s lying on top of the railing, purring for my attention, and the little stinker isn’t meeting me halfway. Oh no, Kitty Kitty wants me to bring her the bowl while she stays exactly where she is. Luckily, I’m trained by my cat, and she isn’t trained by the owner. “Fine, here’s your food, diva.” I set it in front of her then move to the front steps to sit down and enjoy my cup of tea. The furniture on my porch is in working order, but there’s something about sitting on a porch step, leaning against the railing, and letting the sun hit your face.
I’m taking my first sip of hot tea when my morning goes from bad to worse. Easton pulls into my driveway, still wearing the same clothes from last night, and there’s no way I can ignore him or what he does to my stupid rapidly beating heart.
Chapter 15
Easton
I pull into Noelle’s driveway, my hand aching from hitting my brother’s hard-as-fuck jaw. I’ll need some ice soon, or I’m going to be hurting as bad as he is. One look at her front door makes my thoughts of stopping for a change of clothes or worrying about my fist vanish.
Her head and body are leaning against the railing post, a hot mug of something is in her hand, a towel on her head, and a big fluff ball of a robe is wrapped around her. How Noelle is able to stand being outside with the heat and humidity with what she’s wearing is beyond me. After placing my car in Park and turning off the ignition, I open the door and step out into the hot Florida air. My eyes stay on hers, watching as she glances at me quickly before averting her eyes to the black cat slithering beside her.
“Noelle,” I say quietly as I walk toward her. She ignores me, but I don’t stop. It’s an impossible feat considering how firmly Noelle has wedged herself inside of me. “Noelle,” I say one more time once I make it to the bottom of the steps. Still, she doesn’t look at me. One hand holds her mug while the other continues petting the cat’s head. I drop to my knees, hands going to hers, needing her touch. “I’m sorry, Noelle, so damn sorry. I shouldn’t have raised my voice at you, and I damn sure shouldn’t have left you the way I did.”
“Easton, no, no, no. This wasn’t your fault. If anyone is at fault, it’s me. I knew I hired a date. You didn’t know what you signed up for. You were blind to this whole thing.” I take the mug out of her hand, place it on the banister, and entwine our fingers.