Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 151765 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 759(@200wpm)___ 607(@250wpm)___ 506(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 151765 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 759(@200wpm)___ 607(@250wpm)___ 506(@300wpm)
My uncle checked our location and his clock and nodded. “We’re not too far. Tell him ten minutes.”
“Has he eaten yet?” my aunt asked.
Alex gave her a look. “Mom, when would a fighter ever turn down food even if he had eaten?”
“When he’s trying to make weight.”
He shrugged, going back to his seat. “He’s not doing that today, so we’re all good. Bring out the food!”
Clint had gone back to pull up the anchor.
Cohen returned to his seat beside me. “You okay with this?” he asked, his voice low.
I gave him a surprised look.
He ducked his head, a little flush on his cheeks—but that might’ve been from the sun or rum. “He told me. He tells me everything, just so you know. And you left the fight last night so fast.”
I said quickly, “I just needed to get back.” But I looked over at Alex because, if he’d told Cohen what he’d said to me, had he . . .
“He didn’t tell him. It’s different with me and Scout. I knew him before he came out here. I’m part of the reason he came here, but he doesn’t need to know I told you that, right?”
I studied him. “Right.”
He gave a nod and relaxed, his leg touching mine. I didn’t think he registered that. “He told me what he said to you, about what he’d do.” He shook his head. “He’d never do that, you know. I want you to know that. Never. He felt bad about what he said.”
“He told you that?”
“Not in so many words, but he’s like my brother. That’s why he’s so protective of my sister too—thinks of her as his little sister. I’m sure you can relate, the way you are with your cousins and all.”
I grunted. “Uh-huh.”
Cohen chuckled. “Your cousins are right. You’re not like normal girls. You’re like a dude.”
“What?”
“Nothing.” He leaned forward, patting my knee. “Glad we had this talk.”
I wasn’t sure talk was a good descriptor for it, but okay.
We moved quickly over the water, the waves splashing. A cool wind had kicked up too, and as we sped forward, I felt Clint watching me. Looking over, I tried to give him a smile. His eyes were dark, suspicious, and he glanced between Cohen and me.
My chest got tight. I did not need to be the cause of any situation between my cousins and Cohen, so I shook my head and mouthed, It’s fine.
His eyebrows only drew closer, and he got a stubborn look on his face.
I sighed internally because I recognized that look. Clint would be cornering me later to find out what Cohen had said to me, so I needed to figure out what I wanted to tell him. I knew a couple things. One, I wasn’t going to lie to my cousins for Cohen or Scout, and two, this was going to suck.
Cohen was ride or die for Scout. I was ride or die for my cousins and them for me.
Drama was coming.
12
RAMSAY
Scout was waiting for us on a dock outside the most magnificent log building I’d ever seen. There were punching bags outside and weights, so I figured this was the gym his uncle had built for him. There were a bunch of cars in a small parking lot and some guys outside jumping rope, but Scout looked freshly showered in swim shorts, a muscle tee, and a bag over his shoulder.
Another man was walking toward the building, and when we pulled up, I got another surprise.
My uncle and aunt loved him—like, loved, loved him. Each hugged him as if he were a lost-long son. Uncle Nick was asking how his fight went the night before and looking as if he were a teenager. I’d never seen him like that.
My mom shot me a look, her eyebrows up, and I only shrugged. She didn’t need to know this guy reminded me of Max and that was what had sent me home from school early on my first day. I knew my mom. The mama bear claws would come out, and she’d make my aunt choose: her niece or her sons’s friend.
After the year we had, Mom didn’t bullshit around anymore.
“Scout, you hungry, honey?” My aunt had returned to the table and was unwrapping some of the food.
He grinned an almost lopsided grin, stepping toward her. “I mean, I did eat, but . . .”
She laughed. “Okay. You sit. I’m assuming you’ve met my niece. And this is my sister, Christina. We’ll get some food for you.”
He shot me a look, his face blank and his eyes guarded. When he turned to my mom, he gave her an almost shy nod with a small smile. “Hello, Mrs. Williams.”
“Oh goodness. Just Chris, how about?”
The shy look had worked on my mom. I could see her melting, and she stepped forward, giving him a small hug before indicating their couches. “Sit, sit, sit. You want a sandwich?” She raised her voice. “Anyone else want a sandwich?”