Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77983 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77983 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
“Excuse me,” she says with a giggle woven around the words. “What exactly are you doing?”
I kneel on the floor and look her dead in the eye. “Where did the blood come from, Rox?”
She shrugs both shoulders. “Blood? What blood?”
I poke a finger into the sleeve of her pajamas and follow that with a gesture at a larger red spot on the front of her shirt. “That blood.”
Her gaze drops. “That’s not blood, silly. That’s juice.”
“Juice?” I question with a perked brow. “I don’t have any juice that looks like that.”
“I do.” She shakes her head. “Mom buys me these super delicious juice boxes. I packed some to bring with me. One might have spilled all over the bed and me.”
I hold in a laugh. “It looks like I’m doing laundry today.”
“And shopping for dessert to bring to the dinner party at Sean’s apartment.”
“There’s no dinner party at Sean’s place tonight.” I smile. “I haven’t heard from him in a few days.”
“You heard from him last night when you were cooking me dinner.” She points beyond my shoulder to the kitchen. “He texted you and said are you still alive, and a word that starts with an a and ends with hole. I texted him back and said Harrison is alive. Can we come for dinner tomorrow, signed Roxy.”
I stand so I can dig my phone out of the back pocket of my jeans.
I read over their text exchange, including all the emojis my sister tacked onto the end of her messages.
It seems that Sean got in on that fun since he added a string of smiley face emojis to his final text telling Roxy he expects us at his apartment tonight at six.
“If my best friend called me an a-hole, I wouldn’t be her friend anymore,” she points out.
I laugh. “As you shouldn’t be. Sean uses it as a term of endearment.”
“That makes zero sense.” She punctuates that by forming a ‘0’ with her thumb and index finger. “I can’t wait for the dinner party.”
I was planning on cooking dinner for her again tonight, followed by an evening of watching movies on the couch, but if she’s game to hang out with my best friend and his fiancée, I’m in too.
I can’t help but wonder if Sean extended an invitation to his sister to join in on the fun. As much as I know it’s a bad idea for me to see Ava again, there’s nothing I want more, even if I can’t touch her.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Ava
As soon as I walk into Sean and Callie’s apartment, I know there’s more to this casual dinner than meets the eye.
All the place settings on the dining room table are like a big red flag waving in my direction.
I’d bet my life savings that one of those seats is reserved for Harrison Keene.
Since the night we kissed, I’ve tried to chase away every thought of him that has crept into my mind.
My music has helped with that, as have long walks around the city.
I spent part of yesterday at the offices of Wells with Declan. He proudly showed me around while trying to persuade me to tell him how I’m paying my bills.
I’ll reveal that to him and Sean and Callie soon, but for now, I told him that it was legal and lucrative.
That didn’t help. By the time I left there, he was frustrated with me, but it didn’t matter because we met up for dinner only a few hours later.
Surprisingly, he didn’t bring up my income source again. Instead, he focused on the past and all the fun he had growing up. Because of the gap in our ages, I can’t remember a lot of what he can, but I happily listened to him as we ate sushi and sipped on sparkling water.
Sean approaches where I’m standing in the foyer. Callie let me in but had to rush off to the kitchen to check on dinner.
“You brought me a gift.” He extends his arms so I’ll go in for an embrace.
I do because I missed his big bear hugs during my time in London.
I hold the bottle of wine in my hand out to the side. “I brought wine. I sometimes drink this back home. I think you’ll like it.”
He steps back and takes the bottle from me. Examining the label, he smiles. “You did good, Ava. I fucking love this wine.”
I smile at his enthusiasm. “If I knew you invited half of Manhattan tonight, I would have brought two bottles.”
He glances at the dining table. “One bottle will do. Two of the people in attendance can’t indulge.”
I scratch my chin. “Are you one of them? Have you sworn off all your bad habits?”
“Never.” He winks.
I want to press him about who won’t be drinking, but that’s not my business. For all I know, he has some friends who don’t indulge. I don’t plan to either tonight since I want to work on a composition when I get home.