Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 68459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68459 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
“How do you feel about checking out my house tomorrow?” I asked.
Hollis whipped around. “I’d love to.”
I grinned, then walked toward her, lifted her up onto the counter, and kissed her.
When she pulled away, she was panting.
“Stupid periods.”
I agreed. “Stupid periods.”
I want to know why my clothes only get stuck on door handles when I’m in a bad mood.
—Text from Hollis to Quincy
HOLLIS
I learned that Quincy’s job was a real bitch.
For three mornings in a row, he’d had to go into work.
And for three mornings in a row, I hadn’t seen him for the majority of the day.
Last night, we’d met at my place.
The past two days, it’d been at his.
And we still hadn’t gotten to go see the house he was building, which was a real bummer.
Today was my day off, and I was a little bit bummed that Quincy was called into work at five this morning.
The good thing was, he had job security. The bad, it meant that people were dying.
Thinking about people dying reminded me that the story was supposed to break this morning on Taite and Alana.
Which had me pulling out my phone to search social media.
The first thing that came up was a photo of Taite and Alana, both in handcuffs, being led into the Dallas Police Department.
I couldn’t help the smirk that tipped up the corner of my lip as I saw the sight.
I’d just clicked on the article when a text popped up at the top of the screen.
Quincy:
I won’t be back any time soon. I’m sorry.
Smiling at his obvious attempt to keep me in the loop after the stuff that had happened a few days ago—i.e. him going to Kentucky without first telling me he would be flying out of state—he’d been pretty good at letting me know what he was doing, and whether he would be making it back in time to grab dinner with me.
Overall, it felt a whole lot like a real relationship, and I liked it a lot.
I had this peace inside of me that I hadn’t had at any other time in my life.
It was… addicting.
Me:
Dang. If you can meet up for lunch, let me know. I’m going to go to Kinny’s and see if I can switch out the carburetor on my car.
Quincy:
10-4
Quincy wasn’t a texter. Which was why him texting me made my heart sing.
Forgetting about checking out the article that I was about to read on Taite, I shoved my phone into my back pocket and headed for my purse.
Once I was outside, I walked to my car, waving at the homeless guy as I did.
He waved back before reaching into a Chick-Fil-A bag in his hand. He came back out with a fry and winked.
I’d actually never learned his name.
The one time I’d asked, he said he didn’t have one, and I’d left it alone. I did drop some food off to him every once in a while. Or when I had too many leftovers that I didn’t think I was going to get to eat all of them before they expired.
Others in my apartment complex did the same, hence the bag of Chick-Fil-A he had on hand.
I headed straight for Kinny’s and smiled when I saw him leaned over a car, dirty from elbows down.
He looked up when I pulled my car up to his shop and said, “Bay three is wide open.”
I nodded and parked my car, then got out and went to him.
“Did my carburetor come in?” I asked in greeting.
“Hello to you, too.” He smirked. “And yes. It’s on the desk.”
I went to find the box, then headed for my car.
Kinny and I worked in companionable silence for a whole three minutes before he headed in my direction, a red rag in his hand as he cleaned his fingers free of grease.
“So, you and my best friend, huh?”
I looked at Kinny with a raised brow. “How do you know about that?”
Was he telling everyone we were together? And if he was, why did that make me want to clap my hands in giddy excitement?
Kinny rolled his eyes. “He’s my best friend, Hollis. What did you think he was going to do? Keep you a secret?”
I shook my head. “I guess not.”
He frowned. “What’s wrong?”
I thought about telling him nothing, but in the end chose to tell him the truth.
“I’m scared that I’m catching feelings and he’s not,” I admitted.
That was when Kinny Fink laughed in my face. His big, barrel chest utterly guffawed at my obvious discomfort.
I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at him.
He kept belly laughing for a solid minute before he was able to control himself.
“Let’s make a bet,” he said. “You walk into the PD. You go looking for him. He’ll be in the middle of the room with a bunch of other cops. And if he doesn’t give you the biggest fuckin’ smile, and kiss the hell out of you, then he doesn’t feel the same. If he doesn’t kiss you, you and me will go to Barrett Jackson in Las Vegas this weekend. If he does, you have to bring back lunch.”