Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 140874 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 704(@200wpm)___ 563(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140874 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 704(@200wpm)___ 563(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
“This feels so weird,” I whispered, nudging his elbow. “I feel like I’m doing something bad, having a boyfriend over. I only ever did that once, when my mom was working a night shift. I was terrified she would come home and find me and the guy together. But that made it kind of hot.”
“If you’re feeling nostalgic, I can clumsily finger you while talking about my band,” he mumbled into his pillow.
“Who told you about A.J.?” I squeaked in amused outrage.
“Your aunt Marie was more than willing to humiliate you behind your back while you were in the bathroom.” He hooked his ankle over mine. “Happy Christmas, Sophie.”
I leaned over for a kiss. “Merry Christmas, Sir.”
CHAPTER THREE
After the weirdness of our first night in town, our visit was surprisingly stress-free. I showed Neil around what small amount of town there was, and we borrowed Mom’s snowmobile so I could take him out on the trails. It felt good to be home and somewhat back to normal after my long year in London.
On our last day at Mom’s, we woke to the sound of aggressive scrambled egg making.
I lifted my head from Neil’s back and squinted through the split wall of the kitchen. “Mom? What are you doing?”
“I’m making breakfast.” Though the hands on my old Hello! Kitty wall clock said it was only seven-thirty, Mom already wore a full face of makeup. She never let strangers see her sans eyeliner, and she’d even made me sneak lipstick into the recovery room after her gall bladder surgery.
I rubbed my eye—definitely not perfectly lined and beautifully mascaraed—and sat up. Neil stirred beside me, blinking, and said, “For a moment, I forgot where I was.”
“You’re at the North Pole, judging by the weather report,” Mom said. “Sorry to wake you up so early, but I thought you might want to get on the road before the snow comes.”
“Snow?” Neil reached for his glasses on the end table and slipped them on. “I hope we can still fly out this evening.”
“We’re supposed to get a foot of snow between three and ten tonight,” Mom said, turning to flip bacon in the pan.
“Perhaps I should call and ask for a revised flight plan?” Neil asked apologetically. “I don’t wish to tear you away from your family, but—”
“We don’t want to get snowed in, either,” I finished for him. “I totally understand.”
“Here.” Mom tossed Neil the cordless handset, and he fumbled to catch it. Our cell phone reception was spotty up here. “You can use my bedroom.”
“Thank you.” He got up and moved cautiously through the furniture that had been rearranged to accommodate the sofa bed.
When he was out of the room, Mom said in a low voice, “He doesn’t want to get snowed in here with your mother.”
“Well, would you find the arrangement very comfortable? You guys would have alcohol poisoning in no time.” I swung my legs over the side of the bed and began stripping the linens.
“So, we needed something to loosen us up in the evenings. You put us both in a hell of a situation, Sophie.” Mom pulled bacon out of the pan and dabbed at it with a paper towel. “This is the microwave all over again.”
Once, when I was a kid, I’d accidentally set my grandmother’s microwave on fire when I used an old plastic cup to make hot chocolate. I had very calmly gone into the living room, sat down, and waited a full minute and a ruined microwave before I’d gotten the courage to casually tell her, “The kitchen’s on fire.”
Mom was right. This was exactly like that situation, only on a much weirder scale.
The truth was, I’d always had a problem telling people things I should have let them know. I’d done it before with Neil, when I’d found out someone was sabotaging Porteras. I knew I had to stop doing it.
“Does it help if I tell you I’m in therapy right now to get over that very issue?”
She gave me her I-don’t-have-time-for-your-bullshit look.
“Seriously. Neil and I almost broke up over this kind of thing. I’m working on myself. This is the last time it’s going to happen.” I scrolled through my mental inventory in a panic. Was there anything else I hadn’t told her?
Neil came back and Mom exchanged the phone for a mug of coffee, which he accepted gratefully. He took a sip. “Brent is going to call me back with an answer within the hour.”
“So, you’re all going to Norway?” Mom asked over the screeching of the sofa bed frame as I folded it away.
“Iceland,” Neil corrected her. “Reykjavik. Or, about forty minutes outside. My brother Runólf has a compound on a small private lake. I haven’t seen my brothers in…oh, five years now.”
My mom laughed and clicked off the stove burners. “Sounds like you and Sophie have a lot in common. I haven’t seen her in a year.”