Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 45357 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45357 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
“We can talk about this later,” he says. “Go splash some water on your face while I make you a plate. Royal’s on his way over and you’ll handle him better after you eat something.”
I follow him to the kitchen first to set my glass in the sink, glancing at Heather and Diane as I do it. “Sorry for interrupting, ladies.”
“I can’t imagine getting drunk enough to forget buying a dog. You’re like a character from that Hangover movie,” says a gangly teenager who’s leaning on the island’s butcher-block.
Doesn’t Miller know anyone with a filter?
“I’m not that bad,” I say, rubbing the back of my neck. “That dog is small, but I’d never forget a tiger.”
Miller nudges me with his shoulder. “Say hello to my new neighbor, Fred.”
Fred has a shaved head underneath a backwards baseball cap. A purple tank top with the words Resist across the chest, a utili-kilt and a pair of combat boots with pink laces finish off the ensemble. That look is definitely saying something, but I’m not in any shape to translate it. “Nice to meet you, Fred. I’m Brendan.”
The teen smirks. “Oh, I know who you are. I’ve heard a lot about you since my sister and I moved in across the street. They didn’t mention you were bangin’.”
Heather frowns at Fred. “You heard me call him sexy, didn’t you? Isn’t that what banging means?”
Diane looks up from her paper and rolls her eyes. “Why would we mention it? He’s not exactly our type.”
You’re not exactly mine either, Grouchy.
“Thank you, Fred,” I say, my smile as charming as I can make it with the constant pounding in my skull. “I don’t feel all that banging at the moment, but I appreciate the compliment.”
“You’re tall too.” Fred abruptly crouches to shuffle through a giant bag covered in brightly colored pins. “I have a sign I bet would get more visibility if—”
“Fred,” Miller says firmly. “The enthusiasm is commendable, but Brendan had a rough night and he’s still recovering. You can’t recruit him today.”
“Fine,” Fred grumbles, shrugging and reaching for another strip of bacon. “I’ll do it tomorrow.”
My stomach growls, and Miller grabs me by the shoulders and turns me toward the downstairs bathroom. “Go on. After you eat you can decide whether you want to save the world or help me build my deck.”
His touch disappears and I instantly regret the loss. “Off the top of my aching head, I’m going with deck.”
There’s no way I’m leaving Miller’s side until we have that talk.
If it goes well, I’m not going anywhere for a while.
The laughter and teasing arguments follow me then fade as I round the corner. I rub my neck again. I’ll need a hot shower soon to get rid of this knot. Maybe next time I’ll get him a more comfortable couch instead of a dog.
Locking the bathroom door behind me, I take a deep breath and look in the mirror. “Nice.”
Unless banging means I look like shit on toast, I’m thinking Fred needs to add a pair of colorful glasses to his outfit. Her outfit? Jesus, am I getting too old to tell?
I turn the cold tap and dunk as much of my head in the sink as I can, but the icy water does little to alleviate the need that started pumping through me as soon as Miller put his hands on me.
I’m still getting used to it. This desire I have to fuck my best friend blind.
And yes, I’m an idiot who fought it to the bitter end, but it’s definitely here to stay.
I don’t throw the word love around that much. My parents were in love, but it turned to hate fast enough and they started using me as a tool to hurt each other on a regular basis. That was my status quo for years, until my mother died. She loathed her husband so much that she drew her final breath, not holding the hand I was trying to offer in comfort, but cursing his name and giving me her stocks in his company for one last poke in the eye.
That’s why I was in the hospital that day. She’d wanted me at her side when she passed. I sat there, struggling to feel more than obligation and pity, but that was all I had left for the woman who’d never once told me she loved me.
We weren’t exactly a happy family.
But then something happened. I turned a corner in that sterile hallway and saw, through an open door, Aurelia and Miller Day arguing with a dismissive nurse. They were sitting close together on the hospital bed, hands tightly entwined as they asked how much longer they’d be waiting for the doctor to explain her test results.
The love between them was palpable. Recognizable, even to a sorry bastard like me. And in that moment, I knew I wanted to know them. Help if I could. Maybe it was only to shake off my guilt at feeling so little for the woman who’d given birth to me, but I walked in there like I owned the place, said a few choice words to the nurse that sent her running, and introduced myself.