Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 106797 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106797 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 534(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
The hot water felt incredible on my freshly rolled muscles. Although it hurt when Rhodes was rolling the ball across my legs and back, that pain had almost completely vanished and the soreness melted away. Though, I was sure it would be back the next day. Rhodes would be sure of it.
I lathered up my body and hair with Rhodes’ body wash and couldn’t stop smelling myself even after I had tied my hair up into a messy bun, dressed, and rejoined Rhodes in the kitchen, tossing my bag on the floor by his bike. I had caught so many teasing whiffs of the earthy, evergreen scent when he’d been near me at the gym, but now it was amplified, with nothing else to drown it out. I hoped it wouldn’t wash off.
“Would you prefer chicken or salmon?” Rhodes asked, sautéing some sort of concoction in a skillet. His arms flexed with each stir and I couldn’t help but be mesmerized. The kitchen already smelled tantalizing and my stomach growled.
“Chicken. I hate fish.”
He paused, turned to face me, and deadpanned. “You live in a beach town and you don’t like fish?”
I shrugged. He shook his head and went back to whatever he was doing as I pulled out one of two barstools and took a seat. For a few moments he cooked in silence, pulling out chicken and vegetables and chopping them on a cutting board before adding them to the pan. His fingers worked quickly, methodically, like cooking was to him what breathing is to me — effortless. The silence was comfortable as I watched him, but I couldn’t let my curiosity about what I’d seen in his bedroom go.
“Is that your sister in the photo by your bed?”
Rhodes stiffened at my question, stopping mid-stir for a beat. When he started again, he didn’t turn to face me. “Yes.”
“She’s beautiful.”
“She was.”
He didn’t falter with those words, but I noted the past tense. I remembered when Lana was reported as a missing person close to the end of their senior year, the sorrow that washed over the school as the days stretched on without anyone finding her. But after a while, the story about her disappearance faded. I realized as I sat at Rhodes’ kitchen island that I never did hear if they ever found her, though his past tense reference made me think maybe I didn’t want to know.
I sensed Rhodes’ discomfort, so I changed the subject.
“I like your place.”
He shrugged, spinning in place to wash his hands in the sink in front of the counter I was sitting at before turning back toward the cabinets and reaching up for some spices. “It’s not much.”
“How long have you lived here?”
He paused, his arms still stretched out above him as he dug through the spices, revealing just a small sliver of skin between the top of his boxers and the hem of his black t-shirt. Facing me once more, his eyes sparkled in the soft kitchen light. “There you go with your questions again.”
I blushed and murmured, “Sorry.”
His eyes were still on me but he nodded toward my bag. “Why do you always have that camera with you?”
I followed his gaze to my camera tucked in the side pocket, the neck strap hanging out just a bit. It was my smaller camera, not the nicest one I owned, but I always carried one with me just in case.
“You know how you geek out about everything fitness-related?”
He glowered. “I don’t geek out.”
I stifled a laugh. “Okay, well, I was trying to say that that’s how I am with photography. It’s my thing, I guess. I’ve been into it my whole life and I want to go to college and do it professionally.” I paused at that admission. “Well, maybe anyway. I don’t know, I kind of always have a camera with me.”
He nodded, his arm muscles flexing with each movement of the wooden spoon in his hand. My nose was in a frenzy and my mouth had been watering since I got out of the shower. “You going to Appalachian State in the fall?”
I sighed. “I don’t know. I probably should but I don’t really want to.”
“Wow,” he assessed, covering the skillet with a glass lid. He leaned back against the stove and crossed his arms over his chest. “The Poxton Princess doesn’t want to follow in her family’s footsteps and do what all the PBH kids do? What a travesty.”
I wanted to narrow my eyes at him and tell him not to call me that, but all I could do was shift uncomfortably under his gaze. It was hard to confront the scariest person I knew. Luckily, I was saved by my phone ringing before I had the chance to answer. It was Willow.
“Sorry, one sec.”
Rhodes didn’t show any shift in emotion. He just turned to face the stove again and went back to work.