Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 99494 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99494 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 497(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
“How’s it been living with Kourtney?”
“Fine. She’s working in LA for the next three weeks, so it’s just me at the house.” That was one of the reasons I decided to take Kourtney up on her offer when she told me she had a room in her house I could rent from her. Even as close as we were while growing up and staying pretty good friends over the years, I haven’t had a roommate since college, and I don’t really want one now. But as she put it, she’s gone all the time as a travel nurse, so it would be just me most of the time. Staying with her would give me a chance to see if I really wanted to settle here and not closer to Nashville before signing a yearlong lease on an apartment.
“How long will she be back for after this job?”
“She’s normally only home for a week or two between any of her contracts.”
“That must be hard on her.”
“She likes it, and she’s making good money. She told me that her house is already almost paid off, which is pretty awesome since she’s the same age as me.”
“Yeah, but what about building actual relationships? That’s difficult to do when you travel all the time.”
“I guess.” I shrug. “But she’s happy, so that’s all that matters.”
“You’re right,” she mutters, but I know her and know that she’s thinking that Kourtney should be out, dating and trying to find a man to settle down with so she can have some kids. And I know this because I’ve heard it from her more than once over the past few years when it comes to me and my own dating life.
“When are the rest of your things getting here?” Thankfully, she changes the subject.
“The delivery guys called this afternoon and said they should have everything to me by seven this evening.”
“That’s kind of late.”
“I know, but it’s better that way. It means I won’t have to miss work tomorrow, and this weekend, I can sort through boxes and figure out what furniture I’m going to take over to Liam’s storage unit.”
“Let me know when you’re ready, and Dad and I can bring his truck over to help.”
“Thanks.” I turn to look toward the hall that leads to the front door when I hear it open, and tiny paws hit the tile in the foyer, followed by the sound of heavy boots. Before my dad reaches the kitchen, Tums and Herb—my parents’ chihuahuas—run into the room and circle the floor between Mom and me, unable to decide who they are more excited to see.
I set my glass of tea down and pick Herb up while my mom grabs Tums.
“Both of my favorite girls are here,” Dad says in greeting, walking into the kitchen. Even at his age, he still gets up every day and goes to the mechanic shop he owns, so his hat and shirt are covered with grease stains and dirt from a hard day’s work—the same as always.
“Hey, Dad.” I smile as he walks past me to give my mom a kiss before he comes to me and kisses the side of my head.
“This is a nice surprise.” His heavy arm circles my shoulders, and he squeezes me into his side.
“I said the same thing.” Mom beams as she looks between my dad and me.
“You staying for dinner?” Dad asks, giving me a squeeze.
“Do you think I’d ever pass up Mom’s chicken potpie?” I ask, and he laughs.
“Guess not.” He kisses the side of my head, then looks at Mom. “I’m gonna go wash up.”
“Alright, honey.” She tells him, then looks at me. “Well, since you’re here, do you feel like helping me sort some of the donations while we wait for dinner to finish?”
“Sure.” I follow her into the living room, where we spend an hour going through all the clothes, food, and random donations people have brought over, then Dad and I load everything into her car so she can drop it all off tomorrow.
As we finish dinner, the delivery drivers call to tell me they are about thirty minutes away, so I tell my parents goodbye and hurry across town. As I’m pulling into Kourtney’s driveway, I glance next door to check and see if Bax is home, but he’s not. Then again, I haven’t even seen him or his truck parked in his driveway since I moved in. After I park, I grab all my stuff off my passenger seat and take it inside. As I’m changing out of my work clothes, the doorbell rings so I quickly put on my cropped long-sleeved shirt and rush to the living room.
“Hi.” I swing the door in, and a young guy with a backward baseball cap smiles.
“Olivia Gannon?”
“That’s me.”
“Awesome, we’re here to drop off your stuff. Can you tell me where we’re placing everything?”