Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 129881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 649(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 649(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
Even though I’d bet my left nut Riley heard us getting off, I don’t think she needs to see the evidence of it. I could run into her out in the hallway.
Talk about awkward.
“Here.” Jake tosses me a shirt, boxer briefs, and a pair of sweats.
My shirt. My pair of sweats. And definitely my boxer briefs. I recognize them instantly.
“Huh?” I gape at him. “How did these get here? Did you go to my house?”
Before he can answer, an uninvited guest slinks her way into the room like she fucking owns the place.
“You went and got Bella?”
“I didn’t know if she could be left alone all night. I don’t know much about cats. Aw. Hi, baby.” Jake reaches down and pets her when she rubs herself against his leg. “Did you miss Felix? He’s right here, see? He’s okay.”
“Oh yeah. I’m sure she’s been worried sick.”
“She’s already taken to Riley.”
“So, she likes everyone but me? That’s really cool. I’m so happy for you guys.”
He tilts his head up and laughs.
I feel like crying. These mood swings are no fucking joke.
Jake straightens up, propping Bella against his chest. “You’re not mad at me for bringing her here, are you?”
“No. I mean, she hates me, but that was really sweet of you.”
“This dumbass bitch can be pretty fucking romantic.”
I chuckle with tears in my eyes, turning my head so he can’t see when he carries Bella to the bed.
“Where’s the shower, Mr. Romance?”
“Across the hall.”
“Okay. I’ll be back.”
I leave the bedroom in the most natural—I’m not about to break down again—way I can, cross the hall, and manage to close the bathroom door behind me before the tears spill down my cheeks.
Fucking fuck me. I need this to be over.
I curse and harshly wipe the wetness away, then I’m stripping out of my clothes and wrenching the shower handle until the water turns from cold to scalding.
I step underneath the stream and let the jet pound against my back.
I stand there forever before I actually wash anything, and I’m in a worse mood by the time I’m dried off and dressed.
Oh, and my head still kills, so that’s fun.
I stay in the bathroom in front of the fogged-up mirror until I calm down enough.
Fingers crossed I won’t bitch out Jake again or cry all over him if he says something nice.
No promises though.
By the time I search and find him sprawled out on the couch with Bella, I think I’m finally in the clear of any manic outbursts and halfway to my old, sober self.
“Yo,” I say, slumping down beside his stretched-out leg. I sneer at the orange lump of fur in his lap.
“Yo.” Jake cuts the volume off on the TV and arches a dark brow at me, clearly amused. “How was the shower?”
“Fine. Hot.”
“You’re all red and blotchy.” His eyes skim my face, neck, and arms. “Jesus. How the fuck do you stand getting tattooed as much as you have when your skin is that sensitive?”
“Not all tattoos hurt. Well, that’s a lie. But even if they do, it’s a good kind of pain. You’d like it.”
His laughter is filled with surprise. “The fuck I would.”
“We’ll see. You’re going to let me do it.”
“I’ll let you do a lot of stuff to me, Felix, but sticking me repeatedly with a needle won’t be one of those things.”
“Sure,” I draw out, and Jake chews on his bottom lip in this teasing, adorable way as he shakes his head at me.
Guys this hot shouldn’t be cute too. It’s a little unfair to us “average” people.
“Anyway. You know I blush really easily. My skin reacts even if the shower water is a degree over lukewarm. You’ll get used to it.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. I mean, we’ll probably have more sleepovers now that we’re together, so you’re bound to see me after some of these showers. Maybe even join in on one. Boyfriends do that.” I wince when a sharp pain stabs deep behind my eye. “Ouch. Fucker.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yep. Just this stupid headache.”
“Here.” Jake pulls the small bottle of Tylenol out of his pocket and tosses it to me, then he sits forward and picks up a glass of dark amber liquid off the weird trunk thing being used as a coffee table. He hands the glass over to me, explaining, “It’s tea.”
“Thanks.”
“Eating might help with the headache too.”
I know he’s right about that. The only food I’ve had today was that slice of pie, and that was hours ago.
I take two more pills and chase them down with a mouthful of cold tea, then I hand him back the glass, swapping it for the plate he holds out.
I tear into the sandwich without bothering to check what it is, stuffing my mouth with two large bites and quickly chewing. I swallow it down, pleased by the taste.