Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 65712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 329(@200wpm)___ 263(@250wpm)___ 219(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65712 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 329(@200wpm)___ 263(@250wpm)___ 219(@300wpm)
I don’t have a toothbrush. I don’t have a toothbrush. I don’t have a toothbrush. I. Do. Not. Have. A. Toothbrush. Focus on that, Chloe.
I flex my toes and turn back to look at the ceiling. I just need time to think. No, don’t think. Just breathe.
Did he really want me to stay all night? The thing is, I’m awake now, so maybe I should just go. I should probably go. I spent all day with Boyd and I have lesson plans to work on, plus progress reports are coming up. And I was going to change my sheets. Also I’m having brunch with the girls tomorrow and I’ll need to shower and change clothes.
Boyd has a shower and a dryer full of my clean clothes. But still, maybe I don’t want to wear those clothes. And I don’t have any makeup with me. I can’t show up for brunch fresh from the shower with my hair in an air-dried ponytail. How do women spend the night so casually? Is everyone else carrying their makeup bag with them twenty-four seven, just in case? With a toothbrush? I don’t keep my toothbrush in my makeup bag. Was there a memo about this stuff that I missed somewhere?
I should go.
I slip out of bed and find my clothes on the floor. I don’t need the stuff in the dryer. I can get it… later. The light from the windows is actually kinda helpful, I think as I tiptoe down the stairs.
I leave a note on the kitchen island. Early brunch with girls, took an Uber home. Because I’m not a total nut case. I’m not going to walk home in the middle of the night. But I do wonder what in the hell I’m doing as I close the front door softly behind me.
Twenty-Four
Chloe
“Do you think she’s okay without me?” Sophie taps her fingertips against the cloth-covered table while perched on the end of her seat as if she’s ready to jump up at a moment’s notice. “She’s asleep, and Luke is probably more qualified to take care of her than I am,” she continues. “But I’m her mom. What if she needs me and I’m not there?”
“She’s upstairs, Sophie. You are literally still in the same building,” Everly points out. The four of us—Sophie, Everly, Sandra and myself—are having brunch at the new restaurant in Sophie’s building. It’s changed ownership since the last time we ate here because life is full of changes. Huge, terrifying changes that you can’t seem to control. Changes that might alter the rest of your life.
Or possibly people just didn’t like the menu. I don’t know. On the plus side, the new place serves brunch.
“It’s a really big building, Everly. What if the power goes out and I have to run up thirty-two flights to get to her?”
“Well, Luke would still be with her while you were running up the stairs, so I think it would be okay,” Sandra reassures her. Today’s the first time Sophie’s left the baby since she was born.
“She’s only forty-two days old. Do you think I’m a bad mom for leaving her to have lunch?” Sophie darts glances at the three of us before eyeing the door. “Oh, my God, my phone!” Her eyes widen as she digs her phone out of her purse and then she visibly relaxes as she holds up the screen. “Everly, why are you calling me?”
“To explain how a phone works. Now put it down next to your fork. If Luke needs you, he’ll call.”
“I’m ridiculous, aren’t I?” Her chair scrapes against the floor as she finally scoots it all the way in to the table and relaxes. She shakes her head and exhales. “Okay, I’m fine. I’ve got this.” She glances at her phone and laughs. “She probably won’t even wake up for another hour.”
We all take a collective sigh of relief and open our menus so that when the waitress asks us for the third time if we’re ready to order, we will be.
“So, how are the POD’s?” Everly directs the conversation to me after we’ve ordered and everyone’s been served coffee.
“Um, you know, I haven’t really gotten any lately.” That’s not entirely true. I probably have a bunch, I just haven’t bothered to open my dating app in weeks.
“What’d you do? Close your accounts?”
Sort of.
“No, just busy. You know how it is.”
“So men just stopped sending dick pics to you?” Everly asks, her tone dubious as if I’m lying.
“POD’s! Everly, keep it classy.” I need her to stop focusing on me. “I think the POD thing caught on and they all realized how stupid it was to text their junk to random women.” I shrug.
“Really?” Her tone is dry. A quick glance at Sandra and Sophie tells me they’re not buying what I’m selling either.