Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 106935 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106935 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 535(@200wpm)___ 428(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
I stretch my arms above my head, yawning for effect.
Harlow peers behind me as I join them. “Well, where is he? He did come over last night, right?”
“I’d say someone came over and over, judging from that three a.m. wakeup call,” Ethan says, coughing under his breath as he pours a cup.
I blush. But it’s a proud blush, if such a thing exists. And if it doesn’t, maybe it should. I stretch my neck like I’m working out the kinks, then point at the coffee pot. “Fuel. Need. Now.”
“I thought you might, Miss Do It Again,” Ethan says, adopting a feminine tone on those last few words.
Now I blush harder. “Shut up. I did not say that.” But I’m lying. I totally demanded a repeat when Nick smacked my ass in the middle of the night.
“Own it, girl,” Ethan says with a smirk.
“And spill it, girl,” Harlow adds, staring with wide eyes but still hunting around for Nick, like she can find him behind me, slinking around the hall, hiding in a cupboard. “Where the F is Mister Storm Into the Club for his Woman?”
The image of Nick hunting me down last night sends fresh tingles to my belly. He told me he went to find me at the club. “I sent him home a couple hours ago. Because of this,” I say, making a circle around the post-mortem crew.
“Because of us? Your besties?” Harlow asks like that’s absurd. But it’s not them, per se. It’s the situation, in all its fragility.
“I thought it would be weird if the four of us were hanging out in the kitchen on a Sunday morning drinking coffee,” I admit.
Harlow scoffs. “That’s the weird part? Coffee after your bangover? Not, say, the fact that it’s already nine and you’ve told me nothing? That’s the weird part, lady. You’re in trouble.”
I laugh, no longer feeling so weird. I take a drink of the fuel and when I set it down, I give them the SparkNotes, trying but failing to wipe a grin off my face as I tell the tale.
“That sounds both hot and emotional. And inspirational. So, I hate you,” Ethan grumbles.
I pat his shoulder. “It was all three. And I can still feel it today.”
“Fuck you too,” he adds, then downs some more coffee.
“But I think Nick and I should return to New York sooner than planned. He wants to go see David. And I should see him too.” I gulp, my stomach swooping with nerves. Nick has to be the one to tell him about us, but I can’t imagine David will be thrilled with me either. “And with Cynthia in the hospital…” I add, and I feel terrible once again about the timing. Terrible too about how to tell my mother, since I’ll need to do that soon too. But I can’t wallow. It’s time to woman up. I fell for someone forbidden. Now, I need to own it for the world to see. That’s how we become un-forbidden. “Anyway, I can catch a train and you two can take my car back anytime. Or we can all leave together, the four of us, but I don’t want to make you go sooner if you want to stay.”
Ethan meets my gaze from across the counter. “Because that would be weird? The four of us in your car?”
“Or the four of us in your car after you begged for his cock last night?” Harlow asks innocently, fluttering her lashes.
Briefly, I’m tempted to cover my face with my hands.
Instead, I square my shoulders. Raise my chin. And own the fuck out of my desires.
I’m womaning up in every way. “It’s a very nice cock.”
They decide to take the train later. Harlow can’t resist a day lounging by the pool, catching up on her art journals and research. Ethan says he has a song to write, and the sea has always been a muse for him.
I don’t even have to give them the use of my home. In a lot of ways, it’s been ours for a long time. They come and go with me, and we loll around like a family.
“Enjoy your Sunday,” I say as I toss my bag into my car.
“We will. And good luck,” Harlow says seriously. “It won’t be easy, but you can do it.”
Nick and I just have to get through today.
I’ve already texted David, letting him know I want to see him and Cynthia this week when she’s up for visitors. David gave me her room number, so I sent flowers to the hospital. Nick did too. She loves dahlias, Nick had said. David told him that one night.
That’s a start, I hope, of showing how much I value my friendship with David.
Ethan drapes an arm around my shoulder. “Try not to worry, babe. I’m sure David will understand. It’s not like the two of you…”