Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 119092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 595(@200wpm)___ 476(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 595(@200wpm)___ 476(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
“I need to go dry off,” I told Josh.
“Want me to go defend your honor?” he asked, holding up his Soaker.
“Yeah, you do that.”
He stood and saluted me, eyes dancing with laughter, then tore off after the mob of children shooting each other and running around the grass.
I found Ryan by the grill. He held a beer in one hand and a pair of tongs in the other, and as he shifted them to take Ava, he smiled at me.
“You know, Josh’s a real good guy,” he said. “I’ve known him a couple of years.”
“Um, he seems nice,” I replied awkwardly. Ryan laughed.
“Don’t worry—no pressure,” he said. “Just wanted to let you know he’s not a serial killer.”
“Good to know,” I said. “Thanks for having me over. Thanks for everything, actually.”
“No problem,” he said. “Kimber thinks you’re the shit. You know, it’s not that easy for her to find friends, despite what you’d think. You’re special to her.”
That startled me.
“Kimber’s always had more friends than anyone,” I said, laughing.
His face sobered and he shook his head. “No, she’s always got more people at her parties than anyone. There’s a big difference.”
I didn’t know what to say. Ryan shrugged, and smiled again.
“Go get dried off,” he added. “We’ve got sparklers for the kids once it’s totally dark. I’ll need help, and Kimber’s useless after three margaritas.”
I smiled hesitantly and walked inside. Off to the left was a family room, with the kitchen and a breakfast bar off to the right. My sandal caught on the doorway, pulling the strap loose, so I dropped down to fix it just inside the entry.
“Jesus, did you see what Ryan’s wearing?” I heard a woman say in the kitchen.
“I know,” said another. “And Kimber’s not much better. Could that bikini be smaller? You know she’s a giant slut, right? She used to be a stripper. I just hope they leave before Ava hits school. I don’t want Kaitlyn in her class.”
“No kidding. That’s why I moved to this neighborhood—I wanted all our neighbors to be normal, not trashy. And her friend … God, she must’ve been, what, ten years old when she had her kid?”
“I saw her skanking all over Josh. Disgusting.”
My phone buzzed, and I pulled it out of my pocket to find a text from Marie.
Hey. I know things are weird, but I really hope you’ll come to my bachelorette party next weekend. We’re all hanging out tonight and thinking about how much more fun it would be with you here! xoxo
“So, my pedicure girl moved to a new salon. All Vietnamese, and I hate how they talk to each other without speaking in English. So rude!” said the woman in the kitchen.
“You’re sooo right. I never leave a tip when they do that. They should be speaking English if they’re going to live here …”
I stood up and walked through the kitchen, piercing each of the women in turn with a sweet smile. Bitches. How dare they gossip about Kimber, in her own house? I couldn’t believe they’d get drunk on her booze while ripping her apart like that.
At least nobody was whipping out knives.
Not metal ones, anyway.
I wanted to go home.
“You got it, bud,” Josh said, watching intensely as Noah lined up his shot at the skee-ball machine. I had to laugh. Josh had been joking about his theory … mostly. The man really did love the game. It turned out Noah loved it, too, so things had worked out pretty well.
We’d been at Chuck E. Cheese’s for nearly three hours, and I’d had a blast. Josh was easy to be around. He didn’t stress me out and he didn’t scare me. We’d eaten dinner, and to give him credit, he ate the nasty pizza they served without a single snide comment (not even I could pull that off). Then he bought Noah more tokens than he’d ever seen before and we’d hit the games.
Now it was almost nine and I knew we needed to get Noah out soon or things could get ugly. I touched Josh’s arm, catching his attention. He turned and grinned at me, looking like a big, happy puppy.
“We need to head home,” I said, nodding toward my son. “He’s tired. Don’t want to push him too hard.”
“Understood,” Josh replied. He put an arm around my shoulders and pulled me close, giving me a squeeze. “You’ve got a good kid there.”
I smiled, because I knew he was right. Also because I liked his arm around my shoulder. Josh didn’t make my heart explode like Ruger did, but he had a good sense of humor and was fun to be around. That had to count for something.
We fed all of the tickets we’d won (and it seemed like thousands of them) into the chomping machines, which caused Noah intense delight. Then we spent another twenty minutes at the prize counter as he agonized over which tiny plastic rings or erasers to pick.