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)
Viera sighed. “They were going to make a baby!”
I nearly choked but recovered quickly. “Well, I’m not sure about that,” I said before continuing. “He didn’t kiss her. He was just trying to clean up the pop, so she got super embarrassed and ran away…” Why the hell would I tell this story again?
Viera sighed. “Did he chase her?”
“No,” Rip finished. “But he should have. That’s what a good prince does… right, Viera?”
Really? Was that what he really thought? I turned my head to find Rip staring right at me, his eyes flashing as he slid his hand across the bed and squeezed mine. “You always chase the girl, even if she drives you crazy. A true gentleman always apologizes. He doesn’t make girls cry.”
“I don’t make girls cry,” Ben piped up.
I couldn’t speak as Rip held my hand tight.
I didn’t trust my voice.
And a stupid tear slid down my cheek.
Rip saw it.
He released my hand quickly and spoke. “He didn’t go after her, but if he had, he would have said, ‘Let’s go on a picnic again, and I’m sorry I made you sad.’ Princes sometimes don’t have the best manners, and what Aunt Colby didn’t share is that this prince lost his parents just like you guys.”
I tried not to flinch when he mentioned a story I already knew—his story, their story, the one that set Monica and Rip on a path so vastly different from everyone else’s.
One that Monica told me the day we became best friends.
It was easier not thinking about it, because it made Monica sad and it made Rip go into protective mode. The fact that he was even talking about it shocked me.
He continued with his story, and I tried to keep the tears in. He was opening up, and it broke me to hear his voice say these words, tell this story. “He was sad and angry, and he took it out on the servant girl because she was kind. Sometimes when we feel things on the inside that we don’t understand, we get angry on the outside.”
“Like you got angry today at jujitsu?” Ben asked innocently.
I covered my mouth so the kids wouldn’t see my smile.
“Yes.” He shot me a smirk. “Like today at jujitsu.”
“Cool.” Ben yawned. “That was gangster, Uncle Rip.”
I mouthed, “What the heck?” to Rip.
“Yup.” Rip nodded. “Straight gangster, yo…”
My eyes flew open wide and a laugh slipped out. “Never say that again.”
“Uncle Rip’s so ollllld.” Ben joined in my laughter, and then Viera was laughing, and we were a group of giggling adults and kids.
It felt nice.
I wanted to exist in that moment forever.
But too soon it was gone.
And the kids were sleepy.
We said our good nights, kissing each of them on the forehead, then closed the door and silently walked back downstairs.
Exhausted, I went into the kitchen to tackle the dishes since I knew dirty dishes piling up were one of Rip’s many pet peeves.
He came up behind me, his breath on my neck. My entire body tensed, then relaxed into him as I leaned back, willing him to kiss down my neck. He hesitated and I counted one breath, two. And then, “Go relax, I’ll do the dishes.”
“No, it’s fine, I can just—”
“Just because you think of yourself like a servant girl doesn’t mean you are one. Go sit. You still have to post your content, right?”
A shiver ran down my spine, a shiver of excitement. “You remembered?” I still hadn’t turned around.
“You’d be surprised what I remember,” was his cryptic reply. “Grab your computer and sit on the couch so you can get comfortable and into the zone.”
“OK.” I kind of liked being bossed around by him, not that I’d ever admit it out loud.
I walked away and didn’t look back. I didn’t have to, I knew his shirtsleeves would be shoved up past amazing tan forearms, and I knew he’d look hotter than anyone had a right to while doing dishes.
Ugh. I had to stop. I wasn’t a servant-turned-princess like Cinderella, and Rip was no prince.
I grabbed my laptop and sat on the couch, immersed in my work until I started getting sleepy. The next thing I knew, I was getting tapped on the shoulder. I jolted awake and groaned as I felt drool running down my chin. “Whyyyy…?”
“Was that a general question, or are you asking why I’m saving you from sleeping like a human pretzel?”
“Too many words.” I yawned. “What time is it?”
“Ten.” He offered an apologetic smile.
“Oh no!” I scrambled for my laptop and quickly opened it, my brain still fuzzy from falling asleep on the couch. Phew, at least I’d finished the hard part before I’d face-planted onto the couch.
While I waited for my post to load so I could grab my next assignment, I felt him looking over my shoulder. “You trying to be creepy and invasive, or is it just a Friday?”