Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 71768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
“Her version of taking care of the house is making sure the dishwasher is loaded, and then the clean dishes sit inside the dishwasher while the dirty dishes get piled in the sink until finally I can’t take the mess anymore and I do it myself,” I pointed out. “That’s her version of taking care of things.”
“So she’s like a bachelor.”
I snorted out a laugh. “She’s worse!”
“All I’m saying is trust your sister’s judgment and try, just try, to give Colby a chance. Do it for Monica. And for Brooks.”
And just like that, my anger was gone. I ducked my head and started shoving papers around on my desk so he wouldn’t see the trembling in my hands or the tears that had gathered in my eyes.
My sister. My best friend. They were gone.
Oblivious to my emotional shift, Banks shot to his feet. “Good talk,” he said. “I’m here, you know… when you need me.”
“Thanks, man.” A bit of the tension in my neck dissipated as he waved me off and walked out of my office.
I stared down at my phone, immediately feeling guilty for the things I’d said to Colby, the hurt in her eyes haunting me… just a little.
“I’m trying!” she’d said.
But I couldn’t possibly believe that she was trying her best.
Still, there was a reason my sister had adored her.
And a reason that Brooks, all that time ago, had told me I needed to get over myself and fucking make a move on the one girl who drove me to drink.
“Do it.” Brooks and I had stopped off to meet the girls for happy hour. Colby had just gotten back from some resort in Mexico. Her skin was golden, her smile wide like she was well rested and excited about life, and I felt this ridiculous jealousy.
Why couldn’t I be like that?
Relaxed?
Not so controlled?
Free. Why couldn’t I be free?
Maybe I was drunk off her smile, but my brain told me if I just kissed her once, I’d feel that freedom, I’d be able to steal a bit of it for myself. I wouldn’t feel so stressed out all the time. I’d dumbly admitted this to Brooks after one beer, and now he was shoving me toward her.
“No,” I barked out. “Not happening. We’d be a disaster, hell, we are a disaster, every single interaction either ends up in a black eye, spilled drinks, hospital visits—”
“—Stop exaggerating.”
“I’m not,” I deadpanned, then stole a look at her again. She was adjusting one of her red heels, looking back over her shoulder.
Her blue eyes locked with mine and I forgot to breathe as tension swirled between us. She was wild. I was calm. She was my complete opposite. So why did I always feel like I was out of breath whenever she gave me that look? I told myself it was irritation.
But Brooks knew me like a brother.
It was infatuation.
With my sister’s best friend.
My breathing slowed when I thought back on that day last year. I’d had no idea that less than seven months later, he’d be gone. And I’d be left with the one woman I didn’t know how to deal with.
I let out a snort. I’d probably spend the rest of my life in the center of her chaos and never wear clean pants again.
Ever.
I shuddered.
No, thank you.
I picked up my cell and quickly shot off a text to Colby, waving the white flag as much as my ego would allow me.
Me:
Sorry for this morning. I know you’re trying…
She responded right away.
Colby:
What’s with the…? That’s basically like saying, I know you’re trying but…
I rolled my eyes.
Me:
Can’t you just accept my apology?
Colby:
Was that one?
Me:
I’m sorry. There, is that better?
Colby:
Yes, I was especially touched when you asked if it was better. Thank you, I could feel you meant those words. Consider yourself forgiven.
I nearly threw my phone in frustration.
Me:
Sarcasm? How rare coming from you. Even in text form you just can’t seem to help yourself, can you?
Colby:
Not when it comes to you, no. Wanna know what your name is on my phone?
Me:
I’m dying with curiosity.
Colby:
Ah sarcasm, coming from Ripped Pants, that’s your name in my phone. Every night I go to sleep and imagine taking scissors to your closet. It’s soothing.
Me:
Sorry, all I caught was that every night when you go to sleep you imagine me…
Colby:
Stabbing you, or wait, your clothes, sorry, finger slipped…
Me:
And we’re back to the…
Colby:
I think my point was made.
Me:
If you say so…
Colby:
AHHHHHH
Me:
What’s for dinner?
Colby:
I’d hide the knives, fair warning.
Me:
Then how will you use them to cook for me? Something hearty sounds nice btw, can’t wait to see what you come up with.
Colby:
I forget, is arsenic traceable by forensics if it’s in smaller doses or should I just go for the hemlock?
Me:
I’m stunned.
Colby:
That I’m killing you?
Me:
No, that you actually paid attention in science.
Colby:
Both it is! See you tonight, honey!