Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 60309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 302(@200wpm)___ 241(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 302(@200wpm)___ 241(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
Am I dreaming?
Last night, a giant Dorito graced me in my sleep, so I might fucking be.
But “is that a real Snickers?” is a stupid question that I don’t ask. Hunger has not turned me into a complete idiot. Something I know I’m not.
Jo is wielding gold inside our depleting rations.
“Where’d you get that?”
“My backpack. I forgot I brought it until this morning. You should take it. You look like you’re going to chew someone’s arm off.” She tosses me the Snickers, and while I’d love to shove the entire candy bar in my mouth, I can’t.
She’s my baby sis.
I want her fed first.
“You eat it or save it for another day. We might be here for another two weeks.” I can handle the stressful, pressure-cooker conditions we’re under, even if I’m starving and hangry in them.
“I’m not the pouty grump when I haven’t eaten.”
She’s shy of saying like you, so I sling back, “Sounds like we’re dumping the Snickers on Moretti’s lap.”
“Yeah, I don’t think his grumpiness is from hunger. He always looks surly.” She points at me with the Snickers. “Unlike you.”
I eye the candy.
“Tempting yet?”
“No,” I say seriously. Though, yeah, I’m internally salivating.
“This is for the benefit of the whole house.”
I don’t doubt that I can be crabby when I’m hangry. But I can also tap into patience and professionalism. I’ll be one of the last people to throw a tantrum, especially in front of clients, and she’ll realize that the longer we’re here.
To appease Jo (and my growling stomach), I point at her. “Just one bite.”
She smiles.
And then I peel the wrapper and take a single, mouth-watering bite of chocolatey goodness.
Heaven.
I just went there.
See you later, fools.
I open my eyes after chewing, and Joana is full-on laughing. “Please tell me that’s not what you look like when you’re doing it.”
I cough a little. Appetite gone. Please tell me I didn’t just hear my teenage sister mention my O face. She’s nineteen now, but there are boundaries. I toss the candy bar back. “That was a Snickers face.”
She’s about to toss the candy bar to me again, and I hold up a hand. “Keep it—”
“Oscar—”
“I said I’d take a bite.”
She seems surprised. Like she thought I wouldn’t have self-control and I’d end up eating the entire Snickers. I’m a lot of things that she hasn’t completely seen, and maybe that’s on me again. For not being around. Or just being so much older than Jo.
Thirty-one.
Thirty-one and single as a Pringle. I’ve liked that for me. Singledom. But the moment I think it, a guy flashes in my head. His long lashes, a smile hitting his eyes and his lips. Charismatic.
So charismatic, I keep thinking about him even when we’re not in the same room together. Jack Highland is stuck in this house with me and everyone else. And he’s been the best distraction from the blizzard, from the impending chaos that being trapped with this many motherfuckers brings, from hunger and aggravations. He’s the beacon of light when the days start to darken.
So yeah, he’s been on the mind.
My mind.
I focus back on my baby sis. “Give the rest to Quinn if you don’t want it.”
She jumps to her feet and holds out the Snickers. “You should give it to him then.”
He might not accept the candy bar from me, I want to tell Jo, but she’s so expectant of me and Quinn fixing what we crumbled this trip. He punched me outside the Scottish pub. Joana got between us and tried to mediate.
Not my shiniest moment as their big brother.
In my silence, she says, “It’ll be like a peace offering.”
“We’re fine.” I nod to Jo. “We already made up.”
“Did you?” she asks with hope.
“Yeah.” I nod again.
It’s not a lie. Quinn and I are good. We’re moving on. But we didn’t exactly rehash the fight. We just buried it with everything else, and even I can see the pile is growing higher and higher.
I don’t even know how to dig into it, so I don’t.
Once Joana relents and says she’ll give the Snickers to Quinn, I extend my arms to my sister. “Venha dar um abraço no seu irmãozão favorito.” Come give your favorite oldest big bro a hug.
She wraps her arms around me. We squeeze, and as we part, her nose crinkles. “Is that you or me?”
“Is what me?”
“You stink,” she tells me pointedly.
“I don’t stink,” I say with confidence. “Must be you and your House Fit groupies running around here, sweating. Leaving your stink behind.”
Call me a florist.
Because I smell like a motherfucking flower.
Joana considers this with a half-shrug. “Whatever. It could be House Fit.” She picks up her boxing gloves, seeming distracted at a noise down the hall.
“You good on asthma meds?” I ask.
“Yeah.”
Good.
I nod to her, and then she says goodbye, planning to go shadowbox. She saunters along the hallway and disappears from my sight.