Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 75699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
“I thought you were so over high school.”
“I am. For myself.” He took on a haughty tone that sounded a lot like his sister. “But acting? Acting is in my blood.” He gave a regal sniff, tilting his head skyward. “Anyway, likely thousands of kids will put in audition videos, but I figure, why not?”
“Why not?” I echoed, trying to look encouraging. “Good for you.”
“Thanks.” His expression turned sly. “Part of the audition is singing, so I signed up for a karaoke contest at the Heist. You should all come watch me.”
“You’re going to sing at the bar in the old bank?” That didn’t sound like the best idea to me, but Rowan gave me a look like I was old and exhausting.
“I’m eighteen. Contest rules say eighteen and up. It’ll be fun. I asked Dad, Sean, and Denver too. You should come.”
“Sure. If I don’t have a shift.” I prayed I’d have a shift because bad karaoke and an overhyped Rowan weren’t my idea of a good time.
“Good. Bring Declan.”
“Uh…” I made a strangled noise, but by the time I’d thought of a suitable reply, Rowan had already disappeared upstairs with his pile of laundry.
A short while later, a knock sounded. I still hadn’t picked a new book despite more browsing and was even less in the mood for company, but if Rowan needed to do another load of laundry, I couldn’t exactly bar the door.
“Come in,” I called. However, the tread on the stairs was way heavier than Rowan’s, and I swiveled in time to see Declan painstakingly making his way downstairs, black walking boot and all. I frowned. “Wait. It’s you.”
“It’s me.” He took another few steps.
“Don’t do the stairs.” I held up a hand before hoisting myself off the couch and making my way to the base of the stairs. “What do you need? Laundry? I can do a load for—”
“You.” Declan finished for me. “I need to talk to you.”
I’d been expecting this, but I sighed, nevertheless. So much for my peaceful evening hiding out. “At least let me come up to you.”
“Already here.” Declan took the last few stairs at a faster pace. Bump. Bump. Bump. He wore an oversized motocross hoodie and black sweatpants, which hung loosely over his walking boot. “And no offense, but I’m so fucking tired of my room.”
“Perhaps you should let Rowan help you decorate?” That might keep them both occupied and give me more time to stew, so I made my voice overly enthusiastic. “The walls are well overdue for fresh paint. And there’s likely a spare TV somewhere if you’re bored.”
“It’s still the same four walls.” He groaned as he leaned against the banister at the bottom of the carpeted stairs. “Also, doing the stairs is good practice for me. I gotta up my activity level before I get back to the team.”
I grimaced at the unwelcome reminder that his time here was temporary and his end goal was a return to his former life.
“How’s the team doing?” I asked, totally stalling on the conversation we actually needed to have. “Do your friends call to check on you?”
“Some. Cyrus is trying out the new bikes. Joey wants to try something different this season with the suspension.” Declan’s voice was flat. “Wish I was there. Kind of glad I’m not.”
“Because being there and not riding would be harder?”
“That, and I don’t regret the other night. Probably wouldn’t have happened anywhere else, definitely not on the circuit.”
“Huh.” I made a noncommittal noise, not sure how to respond to his declaration. He leaned more heavily against the banister, shifting his weight off the walking boot. I might not want to have this conversation, but my caretaking impulses took over as I motioned him to the couch. “Here, sit down.”
I offered him an arm, but he waved it away in favor of hobbling the short distance. The basement space had been a playroom prior to my moving in. I used the wet bar along the far wall as a place to store snacks away from the teen horde, and I was grateful for the private bathroom down here. The vibe, though, was distinctly lacking, especially since I’d left most of my own furnishings in storage.
Other than helping Eric box up books and toys from when the kids were younger, I hadn’t done much decorating, leaving the assortment of movie posters up and merely adding my bed catty-corner to the couch. The couch was a gray older model that had seen its share of hard living from the kids, and as soon as Declan settled on it, Oz jumped up and took command of the far corner, leaving me the choice of sitting in the middle next to Declan or perching on the corner of my bed.
Not surprisingly, I chose the bed.
“I’m glad you don’t have regrets.” I wasn’t lying there. I had my own share of misgivings, but Declan being at peace and not guilt-ridden was better than I’d expected. “But why couldn’t something like that happen on the circuit?” I’d gone round and round in my head over Declan’s apparent inexperience with men. “I’m no expert, but statistically speaking, every sport likely has men who enjoy sex with other men, no matter how macho the sport seems from the outside.”