Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 116708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
“Are you okay?” she asked, worry etched in her face. I hated myself that much more for carving it there.
“Yeah,” I lied. “Thanks for letting me come in.”
She shook her head, completely unconvinced. “Truett, I—”
I covered her hand with my own and gave it a squeeze. “Really. I’m good.”
She didn’t believe me. Or understand. Or know how to help. And I loathed the fact that I’d seen those expressions from her so often that, even after all this time, I still recognized them.
I also recognized the moment she resigned herself to the reality that there was nothing more she could do.
Slowly, as if trying to delay the inevitable, her hand slid from under mine. “Okay. Have a good night.”
“You too.” With that, I shoved the door wide open and took off through the rain.
Gwen
“Cooter!” Dylan laughed wildly, careful not to spill her latte on Angela.
“What?” Lucille feigned innocence from across the booth. “I’m sorry, but if I have to search through a forest to find the tree, I don’t want it.”
Angela crinkled her nose. “I hear some women like au naturel.”
“Not this one,” Lucille replied, lifting her Starbucks cup across the table.
Dylan did not leave her hanging and met her in the middle for a cheers. “Me either! If I have to brave razor burn and ingrown hairs to tame the hairy gremlin, he damn sure better do the same.”
“A hairy gremlin? Really, Dylan? I did not need to know that,” Angela scolded, disgust painted all over her face. Sliding out of the booth, she looked at me. “Do the restrooms still work? I suddenly feel the need to gouge my eyes out.”
I laughed. “Yes, and you’ve got three thrones to choose from too. I ripped out the stall dividers already.”
“Perfect.” Her heels clicked toward the hall.
“Oh, come on, Ang,” Dylan called. “Don’t be such a prude!”
Angela flipped her the middle finger before disappearing into the women’s restroom.
Dylan batted her lashes at Lucille. “She loves me.”
“I get it,” she replied. “You two remind me of me and my sister. I swear she was born with a stick up her ass. She always acts scandalized by a little girl talk, but the woman’s got six kids. She’s no stranger to a dick if you know what I’m saying.”
Lucille leaned into my side as they howled with laughter. Fighting and failing to suppress a smile, I shook my head, debating if they were a match made in heaven or hell. Probably a little of both depending on the day.
An alarm on Lucille’s phone interrupted their hysterics. Never breaking the conversation, she picked it up, hit redial, and put it to her ear. “Razor burn? I got my gremlin hair lasered off years ago. I’ll give you my girl’s number. It didn’t hurt too much until she got to the assh—hey there.” She lifted a single finger at Dylan and then spoke into the phone. “It’s me again. Any update? Uh huh. Yep. Okay, talk to you soon.” She put the phone back on the table and hit the button on her screen to start the timer again. “She says they’re only a few minutes out, but I swear, if they keep this up, they’re gonna be doing this job for free.”
“I’d rather just pay at this point,” I muttered.
It was a full house that morning. Unfortunately, that did not yet include a crew of construction workers.
I’d slept like shit, tossing and turning. My mind had alternated between my strange interaction with Truett and anxiety over what I was going to do if the demo crew no-showed again. Around five, I gave up on sleep and decided to hit the gym. The new trending workout clothes I’d ordered after one too many glasses of wine had finally arrived, and I put them on, hoping a new ’fit would help me kick off the day right.
No such luck. In true TikTok Shop fashion, the legs of my shorts were uneven and my shirt was too big yet somehow simultaneously too short. I wore them anyway. It seemed more practical than tossing them into the graveyard of returns in the back of my car.
I drove to the gym but never got out. As I stared through the windows, watching the early birds pounding out miles on the treadmills, all I could see was Truett running away like he was being chased by demons. And worse, I feared he really was.
After that, I skipped going home to change and went straight to the restaurant so I could squeeze in a quick video call with Nate before school. It was his dad’s long weekend, and that meant five full days without my little man. Nobody made me laugh like Nate, and that morning was no exception. By the time we hung up, I felt more refreshed than a full night’s rest could ever provide.