Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 104501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 523(@200wpm)___ 418(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 523(@200wpm)___ 418(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
And when my phone lit up before I had even moved around two large groups, I congratulated myself on being psychic.
I sighed, answering as I made my way back to Colton. I rounded a third group. The waiting list seemed to have doubled in the last ten minutes. “Summer Stoltz’s Fan Club Line. How may we help you?”
“Cut the bullshit, you’re not funny.”
“Au contraire, mis compadre. I’m a walking laughing stick.”
He groaned. “I don’t have time for this. Av just called me and said Colton’s at some restaurant with you.”
“He is, and I already called Caden. You can get the deets from him.”
“He won’t answer my call. Is Colton okay?”
“Did you try calling your twin?”
I sat next to Colton as I asked that question, and he looked over, hearing it.
He checked his phone, and shook his head.
“Forget it. Call him if you want answers.” I hung up, hearing a roar from Marcus.
Two seconds later, Colton’s phone was blowing up. He pressed the ignore button, looking pleased with himself. “He’ll have to come here to find out what’s going on.”
“Did he and Caden have a talk with your mom about accepting your brain injury?”
He nodded, frowning. “Yeah. It didn’t go well.”
“So she’s still denying?”
“Yeah. So’s our dad.”
I scratched behind my ear. “I have to ask, why are they talking in a restaurant if they’re actually getting a divorce?”
“They booked a private room here, and they can only talk about stuff out in public. People just end up leaving the room at home or throwing and breaking things. Mom and Dad both have horrible tempers.”
“Gotcha.”
“Colton.”
Caden was here.
Holy mother of my ovaries. My mouth was already watering. He looked delectable in low-riding jeans, a white shirt, and his leather jacket over the top. He’d lost weight. I hadn’t been the only one. Marcus had told me, but seeing it was another thing. He had on a cap. It didn’t hide his features like a baseball cap did, but it gave him a serious no-nonsense vibe. I almost asked him if it was a serial killer stocking cap, if he could pull it down and do some damage, but I bit the words back. He didn’t look to be in the joking mood.
It was also my nervous rambling habit talking—or trying to.
A whole host of nerves blasted me as he stepped closer, his eyes lingering on me before moving to Colton.
“You should’ve called me,” he told his brother.
“Why? They’re going to get a divorce anyway.”
“You don’t need to be here for that.”
Colton stood and placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Hate to break it to you, Caden, but you can’t protect me from everything. Mom and Dad might be pains in my ass sometimes, but they’re still my parents. They’re stupid when it comes to my disability, but they still love me.” He added, “In their way.”
“They’re in the private room here?”
Colton nodded.
Caden looked at me. “You’ll stay?”
I’d stay forever. “Yeah.”
“Okay.” He turned to Colton. “You want to come in for this or stay out here?”
“I’ll stay out here.” He gestured back to his seat beside me. “Marcus is coming, too. He won’t know what to do without a greeting chorus.”
One corner of Caden’s mouth lifted, but the half-grin didn’t reach his eyes. He looked serious, and a tingle went through me—he looked dangerous too. I pitied his parents.
“I’ll be back,” he said.
Once he was gone, I turned to Colton. “And down to two.”
He laughed, leaning back in his seat. “He’s really only going in there to yell at them for being selfish. That’s all he’s doing. He can’t stop the divorce. I don’t even think anyone wants to stop the divorce. It’s been coming since I got hit.”
I covered his hand with mine. There were no words.
He patted my fingers. “I’d turn my hand around, but I don’t think Caden would like that. Speaking of, what’s the issue with you guys? He said you needed time, but it doesn’t seem like you’re the one who wanted time away.”
I pulled my hand back and clasped my fingers together, pressing them down in my lap. “That was part of the problem. I wasn’t dealing with something.”
“Have you now?”
Had I? I thought about my mom every morning when I woke up. I could smell her perfume. I felt her fingers when she’d tucked my hair behind my ears. I could hear her whispering, “I love you, my little Summer.” I’d heard, felt, smelled, and thought about my mom nearly constantly over the last two months. Every time that hole hurt, but it was getting smaller and I didn’t always feel like I had to shove it down anymore.
“Yes.” I hadn’t realized it myself until then, but the answer was yes. I hadn’t lost my mom. She was still with me. She wasn’t ever going to leave me.