Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 77353 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77353 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
I swipe my card and enter my pin, all the while thinking this kid sure as hell better appreciate all of the effort I’m putting into our impromptu campout.
“Oh, thank God!” Stella shouts, the second I walk through the door. “I didn’t think you were ever coming back!”
“I was only gone like two hours, Smalls.”
She snatches the bag containing her coffee creamer out of my hands. “I ran out after my first cup.” She widens her eyes dramatically. “One. Cup.”
Laughter wells up from my chest. “Better hurry—wouldn’t want you hulking out or anything.”
“But Hulk is super cool,” Maverick says from the couch. “And he’s green.” His little head pops up over the back of the couch. “That’s my favorite color.”
“Good choice,” I murmur, walking into the kitchen.
Stella shoots me a knowing look as she saunters past, heading back to her bedroom.
I heft the bags onto the island, refusing to let her bait me, and begin sorting everything into piles.
“What’s yours?” Maverick hollers.
Brilliant blue eyes flash through my mind—are they Birdie’s or Frankie’s? What’s the chance of them both having the same hue? “Blue,” I call back, because regardless of which woman they belong to, they’re fucking gorgeous.
“Like Captain America’s suit!”
“Sure.” I toss the package of hotdogs into the fridge. “Just like that.”
The sound of little footsteps echoes down the hall, and then Maverick’s right there in the kitchen with me. “Can I help?”
“If you want.” I nudge a bag toward him. “Where’s your mom?”
He climbs up onto one of the stools and begins emptying the bag. “She’s getting ready for work.”
“Where does she work?” At this point, I’m not sure whether or not I’m making small talk or fishing for information.
Maverick shrugs as he surveys the contents of his bag. “You got marshmallows—the big ones—and graham crackers, and chocolate—Orion!” He shouts my name and my eyes fly up to meet his. “Are we for real having a sleepover?”
How is this kid so cute? “Yeah. We are.”
Without warning, he jumps off his stool and flings himself at me. Despite his small size, the kid somehow crashes into me with the force of a Mack truck.
I stagger back as I fumble to wrap my arms around him to keep him from hurting himself.
But he just wraps his arms around my neck, hugging me like he didn’t just almost bust his head open and like we didn’t just meet this morning.
“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! I’m so excited! This is—you’re the best!”
Awkwardly, I pat his back. “You’re, uh, welcome.”
Just as quickly as he came at me, he wiggles out of my hold, landing on his feet. “I gotta go tell Mama! She told me not to get my hopes up, but you really did it, because you’re the best!”
For reasons unknown, my heart squeezes in my chest as he takes off running down the hall toward the room he shares with Frankie.
Five minutes later, everything is put away and I decide to help myself to a cup of the coffee Stella must have started. However, unlike my sister, I drink mine black.
I manage to enjoy two sips before Stella barges into my solitude, firing off one question after another.
“What’s going on? You don’t like kids, but you’re being really nice to Mav. Are you trying to fuck Frankie? Ew, actually, don’t answer that. Seriously though, what gives?”
Raising my mug to my lips, I stare at her over the rim.
“Orion!” She whines my name, sounding every bit like the brat she was when we were younger.
“Smalls!” I mimic her tone, and she narrows her eyes.
“Avoidance only means you have something to hide.”
I place my coffee onto the island and throw my arms out wide. “What could I possibly have to hide?”
“I don’t know.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “You tell me.”
“Stella.” I sigh. “There’s nothing to tell.”
She leans a little closer and sniffs the air.
“What in the hell are you doing?”
“Yup. Just as I suspected.”
“What is?” I’m half-tempted to call Samson and ask if she’s taken up recreational drug use, because she’s acting like a nut.
“You smell like lies. Filthy, filthy lies.”
“Are you high?”
“No,” Maverick scoffs. I swear, the kid is part ninja, because when he’s not clomping through the house like a horse, he’s noiseless. “She’s short.”
Stella gasps. “I prefer vertically challenged.”
He shrugs and positions himself directly beside her. “Either way, I’m half your tall, and I’m not even in big school yet!”
I don’t mean to laugh, but I can’t help it—the kid’s got a point. “Has my sister told you her nickname?” I ask, once my laughter subsides.
“No.”
“Orion,” Stella growls, but she’s about as threatening as a kitten.
“Smalls!” I shout, instinctually stepping out of striking range, because as I well know, kittens have claws. “You know, because she’s so…” I trail off as I begin cracking up all over again.