Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 82472 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82472 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
All jokes aside, she just cleared my schedule in ten minutes.
He doesn’t answer me anymore. Instead, flowers arrive. Lots of them. I laugh, thinking well played. I pick up the phone, calling my girl. She answers breathless after the second ring.
I smile and lower my voice. “Are you playing with yourself?”
She laughs. “Most def. How did you know?”
“My cock has a radar for when you’re in the mood. He stands at attention ready for war.”
“That is a picture. Your cock dressed up ready for war with a little helmet.”
“Hey,” I snap, “there is nothing little about my cock. You never put little and cock in the same sentence.”
“Okay,” she says, giggling, “your head is so big they don’t have a helmet to fit.”
“Better, so much better.” I turn my chair, looking outside. “Now what are we doing for dinner?”
“I have to watch Rachel and Gabriel so Lauren can go get her car fixed.”
“Oh, okay, so I’ll come there. How about I grab some pizza? Do kids eat that?”
“Yes, Noah, kids love pizza. Can you get me a vegan one?” she says softly. “There may be a surprise tonight if you do.”
“I’ll make the pizza myself if they don’t have one.”
She laughs. “Okay, come by at five ish.”
“See, you get ish. Why doesn’t your sister get ish?”
“She will never get ish. Ever,” she sighs. “See you at five.”
“Later, babycakes,” I say, disconnecting.
The afternoon goes by uneventful. Lauren has everything organized and I don’t know what I did before her. The pizza is now sitting on the passenger seat. Not knowing what the kids like, I think I went overboard. Because now there are six pizzas. One just cheese, one pepperoni, one meat lovers, one veggies, one Hawaiian, and one vegan. Pulling into the driveway, I see they are all outside. Gabe is with a hockey stick, doing some stick handling while Kaleigh is doing some poses with Rachel. When I turn off the car, they all run to the car.
“Hey there,” I say, getting out, kissing Kaleigh hello and then bending to kiss Rachel.
“Did you get me epperoni?” Rachel puts her hands on her hips.
“I did,” I say, slapping Gabe on the shoulder. “Who is going to help me carry these in?” I say when I open the door and raise the boxes up.
“How many people were you expecting?” Gabe asks, laughing.
I shrug my shoulders, following them inside, carrying all the boxes. When I place them on the counter, we open them and Rachel scrunches her nose up when she sees the vegetable one. “I no want that one.”
Kaleigh goes to get plates, coming back and handing me and Gabe one. Then she grabs a slice of pepperoni for Rachel. We sit down at the table where I listen to stories of all the kids in Rachel’s class. Each and every one of them.
When it’s time to clean up, I tell Kaleigh I’ll take care of it so she can give Rachel a bath. I roll up my sleeves while Gabe goes to do his homework and I go about placing things in the dishwasher. I open it to see that it’s not even organized. I shake my head and start rearranging everything. By the time I finish, Rachel comes bouncing down.
“Aunt Kay said she is taking a shower and to not go show her your toy. What toy do you have?” she asks and I take in the little girl with fresh pjs and her wet hair combed and braided.
“Um.” I start to think of something.
“Can I paint your nails?” she asks.
“Sure,” I say if it’s going to get her to not think about what toy I have for her aunt.
She squeals with delight, clapping her hands and jumping up and down.
“I go get my spa tings,” she says, running back to the dining room corner, bringing up a bright pink square makeup case. She walks to the living room and puts it on the table. “Come sit, Noah,” she says and I go sit down. She opens this pink case, showing me that she has about ten nail colors. “What color you want?” she asks and I bend in, looking at the colors. Green, yellow, blue, orange, red, pink, brown, white, gray, and black.
“I don’t know,” I say, grabbing a bottle out of the case. “What color do you think I should do?” I ask her, picking another bottle.
“I love the orange,” she says, grabbing the bright orange out of the bag. “It means social butterfly.”
I pinch my eyebrows together. “Does it really?” I ask her.
“Yes, Google it,” she says, making Gabe laugh from the dining room where he is still doing homework.
I pull out my phone, searching for the information, and what do you know, she is right.
“Look at that. How about we do orange on my feet and pink on my nails?” I tell her, reading the description for pink.