Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 148704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 744(@200wpm)___ 595(@250wpm)___ 496(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148704 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 744(@200wpm)___ 595(@250wpm)___ 496(@300wpm)
“Cool.” He starts down the hall, pausing a few steps in and facing her again. “I don’t have anything else to put on.” His eyes lift to mine.
Prick.
As expected, she turns to me, a hopeful look in her eyes.
“Yeah.” I grind my teeth, my footsteps heavy as I slip inside my room, grabbing a scrubby pair of sweats and a T-shirt I don’t care for. I stop in front of him, dropping them into his hands.
“Thanks.” He studies me a moment before closing himself in the bathroom.
Davis dashes into the kitchen, yanks the freezer open, and grabs the frozen pizzas. She tears at the box, dumping the frozen things onto a cookie sheet, pulling flour and sugar down as well as if to create a dessert to go with it, her mind running a mile a minute.
I have to talk to her before Memphis is out of the shower.
“Baby—”
“I can’t believe this!” she says, scooping a cup full of flour into a pan, laughing seconds later, before setting it all down and gripping the counter.
She hangs her head, and when she looks up, tears shine back at me, but it’s her smile that creates the ache in my chest. It’s damn near blinding.
I hold my arms open, attempting to lodge the sigh threatening to escape my throat, and like I knew exactly what she needed, she barrels into me, curling into my chest, my arms tight around her.
“He’s clean, Crew. And he’s here? Like what? I can’t believe it.”
“Yeah, it’s a surprise, Sweets.” I kiss her head, bending when she raises hers, and press my lips to hers. “Why don’t you go get dressed? I’ll take care of this.”
“I know you guys aren’t on the best of terms, but—”
“Hey,” I call her eyes to mine. “Don’t worry about me, okay? Go. I got the pizzas.”
“K.” She settles, a soft exhale leaving her. “I love you.”
“Love you, too, baby.”
I watch her walk away, dragging my hands down my face, my eyes closing a moment.
Fuck me, my muscles are stiff with unease, the inevitable clusterfuck looming over me like a fucking hurricane.
People can change, I know this. I know alcoholism is a disease that can be overcome, but this is Memphis, and while I’d love to be proven wrong, I know I won’t be.
It has to start at the core of the person consumed by it, and I have zero faith he’s ready to ride the wicked wave of recovery.
If only Davis would allow herself to consider the possibility. She won’t, and it’s part of the reason I love her. She’s incredibly selfless and somehow holds on to hope when experience should have dimmed the light in her eyes that still shines for him. I don’t want or expect her to give up on him, but I don’t want her to hurt because of him. Hurt for him, of course, we all have at one point, and she’s his sister, how could she not? But because of him?
Absolutely fucking not.
No part of me believes his sudden arrival is random. I just have to figure out what it is that brought him here, so I can attempt to prepare for what comes next.
Knowing my old, fucked-up friend, it’s nothing good.
How hours go by so fast after Memphis’s arrival, I don’t know. I’m pretty sure I spent it staring at the side of his head while he kept his focus on his sister, his jerky movements every few minutes letting me know it was no easy task.
Now, it’s after midnight, the show Memphis and Davis put on over, but I don’t realize this until ending credits make a loud exit, a preview for something else popping onto the screen.
Davis finally allowed herself to close her eyes, her body settled into the left side of the couch, Memphis on the right.
The two talked for hours, mostly about old memories I was around for, and while she tried to pull me into the conversation, I answered as soft and as short as I could, preferring to take the silent chair for the evening.
“She’s asleep,” Memphis announces.
As if I didn’t know.
Wordless, I push to my feet, stopping at the edge of the couch, prepared to scoop her into my arms.
“I can carry—”
“She’s mine, Memphis,” I tell him plainly, and I don’t bother saying more.
One swift move and she’s in my arms, my knees bending to gently lower her to the bed, not a minute later.
Hair falls into her face, and I use my knuckles to glide it back, tucking it around her ear.
Davis smiles in her sleep, burying her mouth beneath the covers with a soft sigh, the second I fold them over her.
Back in the kitchen, I ignore the man whose eyes are tracking my every step and grab both sets of car keys from the counter, Davis’s purse on the back of the chair, and double-check that the locks are clicked into place.